Against All Odds
by Face of Poe
Summary: A plot is hatched by a long-dormant organization to shake the foundations of the young Galactic Alliance- and Kyp finds himself stuck in the middle as the young Leyla Solo-Fel is kidnapped by the conspirators. Part 3 of 6-part series; post NJO AU
1. Prologue

**A/N: **Welcome! This is part 3 of a 3-part series, so if you haven't read the first two parts and want to…

Part 1- **An Informal Apprenticeship**- is rated M and details the short-lived relationship between Jaina and Kyp, set during NJO, partially missing-scene-ish, partially AU

Part 2- **Betrayal, Forgiveness, Redemption- **decidedly AU, begins within months after part 1- _dark!_Kyp hurts Jaina and shatters her trust- irrevocably perhaps- and gets a startling revelation at the end.

Part 3- **Against All Odds- **could really be read on its own, but I recommend at LEAST reading part 2 for back story. All in all though, anything hugely essential is eventually provided in the text…

**Summary:** A plot is hatched by a long-dormant organization to shake the foundations of the young Galactic Alliance, in an effort to throw the galaxy into turmoil and enable them to seize it for the glory of the old Empire. Naturally, the Solos & co find themselves right in the middle.  
><strong>Characters:<strong> Primarily: Kyp Durron; Jaina Solo-Fel, Jagged Fel, and Leyla Solo-Fel (age 7); Han, Leia, and Jacen Solo; assorted OCs. Secondary: Wedge Antilles, Gilad Pellaeon; Luke and Mara Skywalker; assorted Jedi Knights and Masters; more assorted OCs  
><strong>Setting:<strong> AU, five years post-Yuuzhan Vong War (i.e. circa 34 ABY)  
><strong>Rating:<strong> PG - PG13

**Prologue**

Imperial Moff Qadrik Croyel provided the top secret clearance, known only to seven souls in the entire galaxy, and slipped into the hidden corridor that led to a narrow turbolift shaft. Stepping inside, he impatiently thumbed the only button on the control panel with a floor designator, and the car shot downward into a reinforced bunker deep beneath the crust of his home world Gree Baaker, located within his governate in the Atrivis sector.

The temperature dropped perceptibly; Croyel drew his cloak tighter about him as he exited the lift car, striding purposefully down the ferrocrete corridor towards the large antechamber at the rear of the complex. From within, the sounds of clashing lightsabers could be heard before a commanding voice ordered them to desist.

"Hold, my apprentices," the tone was clear and imperious. "We have a visitor."

Steeling himself and taking a deep breath, Croyel pushed the doors open and walked, pace measured, towards the plinth in the center of the large room. "My Lord Wrynn," he bowed lowly, awaiting the acknowledgement of the tall, dark man.

"Moff Croyel," Wrynn swept his cloak over his shoulder and inclined his head. Croyel stood and patiently waited, only mildly uneasy as the others present gathered around and he found himself surrounded by five people with lightsabers in hand. "You have brought news?"

"I have, my lord. My sources on Coruscant, while keeping me continually apprised of the political dealings, have also brought me a rather _interesting_ piece of information." A slender brow quirked upwards; otherwise, Wrynn's face remained unmoved. "I believe I have found the catalyst that will drive the wedge of discontent between the Empire and the Republic further, delaying their unification attempts, if not outright stopping them. At their moment of crisis, we can sweep in and reclaim the Emperor's abandoned throne for you, my lord."

Wrynn's voice betrayed no emotion. "What is this catalyst of which you speak?"

"A child."

"A child?"

He nodded, anticipation building. "Yes, my lord. I have heard that there is a young girl of extraordinary potential in the Force, her power already apparent at a young age. The girl is only seven, and has not yet begun formal instruction at Skywalker's academy; if we can obtain her soon, she will still be young enough to mould however you see fit, harnessing her powers for the good of the Empire."

The other man's voice was wry. "Perhaps in ten years, this plan might produce the chaos you seek, my dear Moff…"

"No, Lord," Croyel interrupted, momentarily forgetting himself. "I have not yet told you the child's identity. Kidnapping her will throw those who have the power to counter you into panic."

His interest was clearly piqued. "And who is this young prodigy of the Force?"

Croyel smirked. "Her name is Leyla Solo-Fel."

Again, Wrynn's brows shot up. "Solo-Fel?"

"Yes, sir. The only child of the Jedi Jaina Solo, daughter of Han Solo and Leia Organa, niece to Luke Skywalker himself, and Jagged Fel, diplomatic liaison on Coruscant for the Chiss, with strong ties into the Imperial hierarchy through his father, the baron Soontir Fel."

"Hm," Wrynn considered. "Quite the heir to the galaxy, this girl seems to be."

"And kidnapping her will throw the Republic, the Jedi, the Empire, and the Chiss into disarray while they seek to regain their golden child. Their Alliance will fall apart."

A quick calculation seemed to be taking place in the other's head. "And they'll spend years chasing ghosts of leads while I train her here, myself… and when her powers are developed and I am emperor, she will stand by my side until she is ready to take her rightful place as a leader of the galaxy."

"You would rule with another, my lord?"

Wrynn gave a wistful smile. "I am not so arrogant as Palpatine, to assume that one man can achieve absolute power. That is why," he gestured around to his gathered apprentices, "I am not a true Sith; I do not follow their forsaken 'Rule of Two,' preferring to harness power when I find it, not destroy it unless it cannot be made to serve the Empire. Ultimately, Palpatine's foolhardiness was his downfall, and the destruction of all he created- there was no one left to rule following his demise and that of Vader- save us, but our predecessors failed to act when the time was right. No, Moff Croyel," he said softly, "my intent is for the good of the Empire, not my personal power. And a fresh, young mind and raw power, ready to be focused and instructed… that will serve the Empire _very _well. What is your plan for extraction?"

The Moff started slightly. "That depends on several factors, Lord Wrynn; not least of which is whether you want her _now_, or prefer to wait until she is older."

"No," Wrynn was thoughtful. "I was not much older when Palpatine took me secretly under his wing. It will take time to purge her of the antiquated Jedi beliefs she has undoubtedly begun learning through Skywalker. Younger is better."

"Very well; and the strategy for acquiring the child could greatly depend upon whether you intend to send any personal reinforcements…?" he trailed off, glancing questioning towards the silent, armed apprentices on either side.

"Lord Wrynn," a young woman stepped forward, face shadowed by a thick hood. "I would like to volunteer for the honor of leading this mission."

Wrynn was undecided. "I will think on it tonight," he said kindly. "Sending any of you comes with the risk that the Jedi of the Republic will learn about us sooner than we'd like. Surprise will be of the essence, I think, when we are making our move to subdue a galaxy in turmoil." He turned back to Croyel. "I will inform you of my decision in the morning. Rest assured, however- this operation will be undertaken within the month. Initiate the call sign- tell the network to be ready."

"Yes, my lord," Croyel backed slowly from the room, a wide grin spreading across his face. Soon, years of patient waiting would pay off; the pretenders in power in what remained of the Empire would yield their positions to those who were loyal to the old Empire. And once they did… Croyel and Wrynn would lead in retaking what was rightfully the Empire's.

And before then- Croyel was going to see the galaxy torn apart because of one little girl.

**A/N:** A short little prologue to set up a fairly long story- about 61,000 words all-told, just to let you know, and it's in 22 parts + the epilogue.

Hope you'll be reading!

*~Lexi~*


	2. Part 1

**Disclaimer: **Sadly, I own nothing of the Star Wars universe. I just take its characters and use them as my playthings. Muaha.

**Part I**

"Leyla."

Kyp Durron woke up with her name on his lips and no idea why. He looked around uneasily, but the Force had already told him he was alone. Sitting up and frowning, he stretched out further, reaching for his daughter, sensing nothing wrong with the sleeping child; he transferred his mental query to the girl's mother and found her uneasily acknowledging his probe.

There was nothing wrong… but he could tell from her own wearied wariness that a similar uneasiness had struck her, perhaps even waking her as it had him.

That was enough for Kyp. Sending her a vague thought of heading over and not waiting for a response, he swung out of bed and threw on a robe. He tied his long, dark hair back and swept from the small apartment, riding the turbolift down fifteen levels to the closest personal hangar pad where his speeder lay waiting.

On a normal trek through the constantly swarmed lanes of traffic, it would take him close to thirty minutes to reach the apartment where his daughter lived with Jaina Solo, her mother, and Jagged Fel, her father in all but biological technicality. Tonight, however, he was interested in beating that time, pushing his speed to the limit as he swarmed in and out of traffic levels in maneuvers that would have spelled instant death to any but a Jedi.

Ten minutes later, when he was halfway there, his attuned senses exploded in fear and alarm.

Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene.

Jagged Fel, diplomatic envoy of the Galactic Alliance on Coruscant for the Chiss, frowned as he landed his small, covered craft in front of the embassy, a towering structure divided in two parts and shared by the Imperial representatives from Bastion with the Chiss representative from Csilla. Closely allied even before the formation of the Galactic Federation of Free Alliances some five years ago, the Empire and the Chiss viewed their futures and fortunes as intertwined in this new political landscape, which strongly favored the existing power of what had been the New Republic before the Yuuzhan Vong wreaked havoc on all three governments.

Jag had been a smart choice for the job, albeit an odd change in direction for his own career as a fighter pilot and colonel in the Chiss Expansionary Defense Force. His marriage to Jaina Solo, Jedi Knight and daughter of former Republic chief-of-state Leia Organa Solo, had made him a logical representative between the two governments, since he already had one foot in each system.

Now though, as he stared up at the darkened building in the middle of the night following an emergency message from an overnight guard, a tingle ran down Jag's spine. An emergency situation of the level which would merit calling _him_ would be accompanied by some panic or frenzy; guards would be running around, lights would be going on in the building, alarms might be sounding…

Silence.

Keeping an eye on his sensors for any approaching vehicles, Jag leaned over his console and keyed in his remote access frequency to access his home holo-message terminal- and found himself shut out.

Frowning harder still, he checked the relay signal- all clear. Again, he tried his access key and was denied. With a good signal, he could think of only one plausible reason: the comm center back in his apartment was being jammed.

His apartment where his wife and daughter were currently sleeping, blissfully unaware.

Cursing in language he would never dream of using in front of his seven-year-old child, Jag swung the speeder suddenly skywards, ignoring the vehicles in low orbit that veered suddenly in alarm at the reckless pilot.

Two figures watched in go from the shadows of the grandiose entryway of the embassy. Annoyed, one produced a comlink and snapped in to it. "On your guard, Delta team- Fel wasn't fooled, he's headed back your way."

Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene.

The low buzzing of uneasiness erupted into a full-fledged danger sense as Jaina crossed the threshold of Leyla's bedroom. Spinning, she drew her lightsaber, but nothing in the room moved except for the young girl whose own sense of awareness had finally jolted her into wakefulness.

"Mommy?" she asked, confused to see her mother in full guarded position, poised in her doorway.

"Quiet," Jaina hissed. "Something's wrong…"

At that moment, the front door of the apartment blew inwards. Leyla stifled a small shriek and rolled out of bed.

"Hide," her mother snapped before running down the hallway to the debris-ridden living room, fighting to see through the dust.

There should have been alarms.

A few figures could be seen vaguely coming through the door. Unwilling to play games that would chance them getting closer to her daughter, Jaina ignited her lightsaber, knowing their attention would quickly be drawn to the violet blade. She remained in the entrance of the hallway, blocking the path back towards Leyla's bedroom.

Shots were fired in her direction- stun bolts, she noted, but took no time to analyze the possible reasons why. The blue arcs dissipated around her blade and she drew her own blaster from the hip-side holster she had donned upon waking uneasily a quarter hour earlier. Precise, surgical shots were fired- also stun bolts- and she thought she heard at least one of the attackers go down.

Suddenly, one of the oncoming blaster bolts changed to full-power, lethal energy shots. She deflected them with ease, sending one back at the shooter and driving him to the floor as well. By her awareness, however, there were still four standing, still firing stun blasts relentlessly in her direction.

The air was clearing slightly, and Jaina crouched down on the floor, letting shots go wide over her head and burn into the wall behind her. Taking careful aim, she dropped another attacker, and cursed the Chiss for having an emergency at a time like this.

Then something changed. Her head twisted around as she felt a new danger, even as her arm moved instinctively to batter away and absorb the shots. Someone was coming through the balcony… and a presence stood out to her, something cold and… dark.

Swearing under her breath, she drew further into the hallway, reluctant to leave three standing attackers at her back… but she would not leave Leyla's bedroom open to this new set of intruders. Seeing her retreat, the three men behind her renewed their efforts and Jaina was forced to turn to ward off a concurrent trio of blasts. Moments later, she spun and dropped as four more men appeared at the other end of the hallway, boxing her in.

Frantic, Jaina poured stun fire into the new crowd, cursing her decision to face off against the initial attackers in the confined hallway space- good for cover; bad for ambush. A voice sounded faintly over the blaster fire, however, and froze her blood in her veins.

"Five and six, on me- the child is in here!"

With a growl of fury, Jaina leapt headlong into the attackers who had come in through the balcony that had mysteriously allowed them entrance with no warnings. Her lightsaber made fast work of one, and the other three scattered at the onslaught of the glowing energy blade.

She stunned a man in body armor at point-blank range, not stopping to see him fall to the floor. Leyla's panic was palpable through the Force, her room only a few meters in front of Jaina…

An explosion tore through the apartment, and she stopped breathing for a second in the certainty that her daughter had just been killed. Only a moment was needed, however, to reassure herself that she was wrong, and Leyla was unharmed, albeit terrified. Taking advantage of the brief cowering of the assailants in light of the explosion, Jaina plunged ahead into her daughter's room…

Where the entire outer wall had been surgically imploded.

The currents of air at thousands of feet whipped through the room, but Jaina did not blink as her furious eyes saw two men wrestling her daughter into submission. Leyla was struggling valiantly in one's arms as he fought to wrap them around her own flailing ones, the other standing to the side, holding an injector pen. He found an opening and pressed the tip to her leg, depressing it at the same moment she kicked him in the face.

Jaina could only watch in horror as she continued to battle away blasts from outside the room. Leyla stopped struggling, her eyes drifting closed… the man holding her got a firm grip and spoke into a comlink strapped to his wrist.

She strode forward, using the Force to slam the door on those at her back. Before she made it two steps, however, she whirled and parried a harsh blow from a red lightsaber that shone bright against her own violet blade. Her eyes widened as they locked on to a pair of glowing, intense, dark eyes set deep within a hooded face. She swung and was repelled once before the red saber came down low and close to her face.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a shuttle approach and hover near the devastated wall. With a grin, the woman opposite her sprang away, wresting Leyla from the grasp of the man. "No!" Jaina shouted uselessly as she found herself again under the barrage of blaster bolts- full powered ones this time- preventing her from reaching the dark woman.

Scooping Leyla firmly into her grasp, the woman leapt from the opening and Jaina's heart plummeted. Ignoring the shooters, she dashed to the remains of the wall and saw, horrified, as another shuttle picked up the survivors at the balcony.

There was little she could do but leap up after her stolen daughter. She readied herself for the spring as the shuttle began pulling away… and felt a fiery pain tear into her side.

Only fast reflexes kept her from falling out into thousands of feet of free-fall. Growling as she fell, she turned and leveled her blaster at the shooter, dropping him like a stone with a blue stun arc. "Call them back," she hissed painfully at the man who had injected Leyla with a sedative. "Call them back or I'll kill both of you."

It would have seemed an empty threat from anyone else. She was injured, a burn wound under her ribs on her right side… but the man seemed aware enough of who she was to know that she could do it easily. He steeled himself, raised his blaster… and turned and shot a fatal bolt into his companion's head.

The surprise of the move was enough to give Jaina pause as he darted for the opening. For a moment, it seemed that he judged the distance between himself and the landing ramp… and then the decision was made for him. He never saw the blaster bolt coming and then he was falling from the torn wall, leaving Jaina alone with a corpse, struggling to rise and figure out a new way to stop the vessel bearing her daughter away from her.

Tears springing to her eyes, she angrily yanked her comlink from her utility belt, setting the frequency for GA security… and was answered by a hiss of static. A feral snarl emerged from her throat as she felt another presence approaching… this one safe…

"Jaina! Leyla!"

Jag's panic was obvious in his voice, something rare for the Chiss-raised man. He burst into the bedroom, seemingly oblivious to the bodies he must have passed on the way in, and stopped short and horrified at the sight of his bedclothes-wearing wife on her knees in front of a hole torn out of the wall of their daughter's room, one hand pressed to her side, and other in the midst of smashing her useless comlink against the ground.

"Jaina," he rushed to her side and pulled her away from the ruined wall, wind whipping around them. "Where's Leyla? What's happened?"

She let out a strangled sob and pointed, shaking, to the two shuttles rising into the night. "I couldn't stop them," she whispered. "There were too many to take on all at once…" She heaved a shuddering breath. "Jag, we have to go after them!"

He was already pulling her to her feet and leading them into the next room and through the door onto the balcony where his covered speeder sat idling. He wrenched the comm unit from its holder and keyed in a priority access channel. "Coruscant space defense, this is diplomatic envoy Jagged Fel, requesting immediate acknowledgment."

Silence met his request, and then a burst of static caused him to curse and drop the receiver. "Jag, we have to _go_," Jaina urged, trying to push him into his small craft. "Before it's too late…"

"Jaina," he said brokenly, "there's nothing we can do. By the time we get to a space-worthy craft, they'll have entered hyperspace. You're injured…"

"Who gives a kriffing damn!" she yelled. Her heart broke further over the gut-wrenching despair on his face, but she had no one else at whom to lash out. Suddenly, she stilled, hearing approaching repulsor jets…

Jag whirled around, blaster at the ready as an open-topped speeder veered recklessly towards the exposed balcony. He seemed on the verge of firing when Jaina stayed his hand. "It's Kyp," she shouted over the drone of the engines.

The speeder landed next to Jag's; Jag shielded Jaina from the whipping winds and they watched in forlorn silence as the older man jumped from the pilot's seat with murder in his eyes.

**End Part I**


	3. Part 2

**Part II**

Kyp Durron wasted no time; the dilapidated state of their corner of the apartment building, the devastation pouring off them in the Force, the stunned silence as they watched him look around… it was obvious that the worst had happened.

He had felt Leyla's terror and panic and then, terrifyingly, the slow slide into unconsciousness. The only reassuring part of that had been that he felt no pain accompanying it, suggesting that she had not been injured. The panic from Jaina's mind, however, drowned out everything else afterwards, followed by her barely noticed pain when the blaster had caught her in the side as her attention focused solely on reaching her daughter…

The pain was returning full-force now though and, though the other two seemed too shocked to do much of anything, this was something he could fix now while his mind tried to catch up with what to do about his taken daughter who was already beyond their reach. Striding purposefully forward, he scooped Jaina up in his arms, startling Jag out of his reverie, and the three retreated into the front of the apartment, away from the damaged walls.

"Medpac," he snapped at Jag, laying Jaina on the sofa and ripping her shirt up the side, pulling the charred fabric away from her burnt flesh. Accepting the antiseptic spray and bacta patches from Jag, he worked quickly while sending his own healing and pain relieving vibes to her. "Tell me everything," he said shortly to Jag while he carefully applied the patch to Jaina's wound.

Jag's voice was unforgivably bitter. "I wasn't here. Someone sent me a phony emergency call from the embassy; by the time I realized I'd been duped and got back here, it was too late. They'd already left with her.

"Jaina?" Jag moved away to check the fallen commandos but listened intently.

A cold numbness radiated from her. "I played right into their hands. They disabled the security systems, even the force-field around the balcony- obviously. A squad came up through the door and, while I was fighting them, another came through the balcony, pinning me in the middle while they looked for Leyla."

"They were specifically after her?" Kyp asked in alarm. "You don't know who took her?"

"No. But they mostly used stun weapons so they might have been trying to capture me too. And there was a woman…" her voice broke as she saw the dark woman fleeing with Leyla unconscious in her arms. "She was trained in the Force, might have been Sith. We fought briefly before she… took her."

Jag walked quickly back in the room. "They're all dead except for this one," he toed a man in the doorway distastefully. "Looks like he got a blasterbolt in the chest, but he's still alive."

Jaina eyed the unconscious man. "I got him," she said slowly. "Reflected his shot back to him. But," she frowned, "I used stun bolts. The rest of them shouldn't be dead…"

"Well they are."

Then she remembered. "They killed the ones I stunned," she said slowly. "Whoever they are, they didn't want any survivors to give anything away."

Kyp balled his hand into a fist. "Okay," he said quickly. "Here's what needs to happen-"

"Jaina needs a medcenter," Jag broke in.

"She'll live," Kyp said harshly. "It can wait. By now, your alarmed neighbors have probably succeeded in getting some sort of word out about this, despite the jamming. And I'm guessing that more help is on the way from your family?" he directed to Jaina.

She nodded tentatively. "I think so; they probably called security too."

"Then we don't have much time. I need to leave."

"What?" Jaina and Jag asked in tandem.

He sighed. "Whoever planned this is good, and apparently has frighteningly far-reaching resources if they can get at your apartment and the embassy. They aren't _that_ good though- if they were, they'd have set up a diversion for me. If they don't know about me, then I need to use that." He turned and surveyed the room. "I'm taking the one who is still alive and disappearing. Jag, I need you to check any security holofeeds and make sure any indication of my presence is gone- that shouldn't be a problem, the whole system is still offline. Once security is here, get Jaina to the medcenter at the temple, you should be secure there. Once security has done their thing, Jag, I need you to compile every relevant and irrelevant fact about what happened tonight; who contacted you, whose clearance did they use, from where was the emergency beacon from the embassy broadcast, that sort of thing. Encrypt everything and put it on a chip for me, and meet me tomorrow at noon inside the temple entrance hall."

Kyp stood, drew a blaster, and fired another stun shot into the unconscious man on the floor. Jaina winced. "Where will you go, Kyp?" she asked softly.

"Hunting."

Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene.

Three hours later, Kyp stared disgustedly at the man he had just put out of his misery with a blaster bolt to the head. A cold chill settled deep in his stomach as he contemplated what he had been told. His knowledge had been incomplete, but there had been enough to give Kyp a start- not a very promising start, but a start.

He was Imperial by citizenship, but was not part of the Imperial forces; instead, he and his fellow commandos were part of a private elite group, hired out to perform highly secretive jobs like this. The problem was, he didn't know his own employer. They were recruited, paid, briefed, and trained by different people- names or pseudonyms now highly encrypted on Kyp's datapad- and each mission was specially tailored.

Most alarming though was the fragmented knowledge he had of the Force-trained woman with their company. He'd been under the impression that there were more of her kind- dark forces, awaiting the opportune moment to exert their power. She had been known to him only as Xela.

Xela had provided their detailed instructions on their approach- the injured commando did not know where they came from, as they had been called up and sequestered during many hyperspace jumps before their whole crew was accumulated. The main gist of those instructions had been to acquire the child of Jaina Solo and Jagged Fel without injuring her; if possible, capture the Jedi mother, keeping parent and child separated; and neutralize without harming the father.

He knew little else- only that the Jedi were wanted alive, but not for what purpose. Confident that he had anything of value, Kyp killed him with a single shot to the back of the head.

It would not due to have any loose ends at his back.

Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene.

The temple was subdued. All of those present keenly felt the emotional pain of Jaina Solo-Fel as she lay recovering and useless in the medical ward. At ten minutes until noon, she was staring despondently ahead as her twin Jacen and friend Zekk filled her in on their investigation of GA space defense and security.

"They had to have had help on the inside," Zekk said softly. "They pulled all of their logs from last night and we found the two shuttles arriving and departing. They're listed in the register as supply vessels originating from Nirauan, of all places, but the make and model are inaccurate according to what you described."

"Besides which," Jacen put in, holding Jaina's hand in his, "the clearance codes they gave for landing are totally bogus; they never would have passed uninspected without someone clearing them manually as they came and left."

Jaina frowned, wondering what sort of enemy her and Jag had made with such far-reaching powers in the Galactic Alliance. "Where did the codes come from?"

Zekk checked his datapad. "They were old Imperial codes; _very _old, Emperor-days old."

"Chiss craft, Imperial codes…" Jacen frowned. "That's just too convenient to be right."

"You think this is political?"

Jacen huffed at Zekk. "You think it _isn't_?"

"It's not," Jaina whispered. "They wanted _her_. They sent some Sithly woman after my baby, and what would be the point of that unless they wanted to _use_ Leyla?"

The two men's faces fell. "Oh, Jaina," Zekk sat down heavily. "We'll get her back, don't think like that."

"I need to get out of here," Jaina muttered, apparently not hearing her friend. She started to remove various sensors monitoring her health, quickly drawing the attention of Tekli, Cilghal's former apprentice. "I'm going to comb the galaxy if I have to, no matter how long it takes, but I can't even start while I'm sitting here in this _kriffing_ bed!"

An untouched tray of food flew across the room. Zekk ducked as pieces of fruit rebounded towards his head, and Jacen seemed torn between helping Jaina up or forcing her back in the bed. "Sis," he pleaded as Tekli, without comment, began cleaning up the spilled tray, "just wait until Jag gets back, okay?"

She visibly deflated and sat back once more, reaching out in the Force for the millionth time, sensing that Leyla was unharmed but still unconscious, and sending reassuring thoughts that may or may not have been reaching her at all.

Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene.

Jag strode into the nearly silent grand foyer of the Jedi temple a minute before noon. His pace was measured as he discreetly scanned the space for Kyp Durron, Jedi Master, family friend and, unbeknownst to her, Leyla's biological father.

Strange circumstances had brought Jag, Jaina, and Leyla together as a family. Several months prior to the beginning of his relationship with fellow squadron-leader Jaina Solo, she had apprenticed under Kyp and the two had become close, carrying on a discreet romantic relationship at the same time. When he betrayed her trust soon after, however, she left him, causing a ripple effect in Durron's psyche. For all of his failings at the time, he had truly cared for Jaina, and the pain of her departure drove him back towards the dark side that he had forsaken more than a decade earlier.

In a desperate attempt to bring Jaina back to him, Kyp had used the Force to manipulate her body after knocking her unconscious, ensuring conception- and then he raped her, in the hopes that, while carrying his child, she would have nowhere else to turn.

Upon learning the truth, Jaina knew that she alone would have the power to apprehend the renegade Jedi Master, and she enlisted the help of Jag and Zekk to do so. After succeeding, and learning that she was in fact pregnant, Jaina had disappeared, knowing the importance of keeping the unborn child away from the deluded and dangerous man.

Jaina's uncle had set Jag on her trail, and then spent several months rehabilitating Kyp, pulling him back towards the light side of the Force. Sequestered in the Unknown Regions and Outer Rim, the relationship between Jaina and Jag grew until he proposed to her a few hours after she gave birth to Leyla on Jag's home world of Csilla.

It would be almost two years before Jaina was confident enough in the redemption of Kyp Durron to tell him the truth, and had finally done so during the conclave on Zonama Sekot, at the very end of the Yuuzhan Vong war. He had felt devastatingly guilty at first, but his affection for Leyla and Jaina's entreaties convinced him to accept their forgiveness for past crimes and get to know his daughter.

After they were married, they did not see the Jedi Master for a few months while he assisted in establishing a new Jedi school. When he came to visit at the time of Leyla's second birthday, he confessed to a great deal of thought and reflection that led him to the decision that it was best if his identity as Leyla's true father remain a closely guarded secret among those who already knew.

Perhaps it was simply Jedi foresight, Jag thought as he glimpsed the older man disappearing into a room off the main chamber. But today, that decision seemed a very good one indeed.

"Do you have it?" Not wasting any time, Kyp drew the hood of his cloak down and surveyed the younger man. Jag handed over a small datachip and an encryption key. "Any trouble getting it?"

"No," Jag shook his head. "Given the circumstances, security in the embassy was more than willing to give me access to their files. Whether those had been doctored before I got there… well, that's not for me to say. But you'll find a list of remote access connections that should give you a start if the rest of the information turns up in a dead end."

Kyp tucked the small casing away in his robes. "I'll know soon enough- I have several names to cross-check."

"Oh? Our commando survived?"

"Long enough to tell me everything he knew," Kyp returned, gaze even and piercing.

Jag jerked his head in acknowledgement. "Understood."

"Listen, Jag- this is important- we can't meet again. From here on out, until you have Leyla back in your physical possession, I'm just another casual Jedi acquaintance. No one is to know that I was at your apartment last night, no one is to know that I've even ever been to your apartment. Leyla is just a girl I've encountered once or twice, no more, no less."

Jag swallowed. "What are you going to do?"

"Whatever it takes. Whoever is leading this, they've made a fatal error; you should always know what personal vendettas you're starting. They'll be keeping tabs on everyone- you and Jaina, her parents, Jacen, your whole family, the Skywalkers… but not me. The last thing they want in this is a surprise, and I'm going to give that to them one way or another." The cold determination in Kyp's voice sent chills down Jag's back. "There's something dark at work here, Jag- and unfortunately for them, that's a language I speak _very_ well."

"What should we do in the meantime?"

Kyp's voice was sharp. "Everything you'd be doing anyway. I can't give you any information from the commando, they'll be more off-guard if they don't suspect one survived. But go on what you have, follow up where you can, and if you find something promising, run with it. I'm going to disappear soon and when that happens- you'll have to get this into Jaina's head too, and her family's- you can't argue with anything, can't support or deny any claims that are made about me. I have a feeling that I'm going to need to make a dramatic exit from the Jedi order, and you have to accept whatever happens. My priority now is Leyla, and I'm more than willing to wound the pride of the Jedi to get her back. Understood?"

"Understood." He hesitated. "Kyp… what do you know that I don't?"

The older man ran an anxious hand through his long hair. "A lot that I can't tell you. But for now- Jag, this wasn't a ransom kidnapping, not a political ploy. They wanted Leyla and now that they have her, they are going to disappear and watch the galaxy unravel from a safe distance."

A knot formed in Jag's stomach, a lump in his throat. "Do what you need to do," he said hoarsely. "May the Force be with you."

Kyp nodded, paused, and shook the young man's hand firmly. "Take care of Jaina; give her a kiss for me."

And he was gone in a swirl of robes.

**End Part II**


	4. Part 3

**A/N: **So for any and all following out there, I have something of a post/12 hours (approximately) philosophy when it comes to stories that are already written (as this one is). Just letting you know what to expect.

Except next week on Thursday I am traveling and between Thursday and Sunday I might have limited internet connection… not sure yet. But OTHERWISE… about 2 posts a day. :-)

**Part III**

A low hum of machinery was the first thing she noticed as she was slowly dragged back to consciousness. The second was that she was groggy and hungry. The third- as she opened her eyes- was that she had no recollection of where she was or how she got there.

Knowing that her parents would berate her for panicking, Leyla took in as much information as she could from her position- which was lying on a hard bed with safety webbing strapped around her. Once she had enough information, _then_ she could decide whether it was alright to panic.

The constant whirring noise surrounding her suggested that she was in a ship. It sounded like her grandpa's ship, and the room even _looked_ like the _Millennium Falcon_ a little bit; but grandpa had shown her all over his ship and let her play in the sleeping quarters, and this room was certainly not on the _Falcon_.

She'd also been on several ships with her parents, when they traveled to Ossus to visit mommy's aunt and uncle, or to Csilla to visit daddy's family. But those ships were all the same, stuffy type shuttle that they used at daddy's work, and this didn't look like one of those either.

Before Leyla could decide what to do about her predicament, she heard a thud of boots on the metal decking outside the room, and a moment later, the door began to hiss and slide open. Her first instinct was to hide, but her little fingers got tangled in the safety restraint around her chest. Stuck in place, she haltingly raised her gaze to the newcomer- and her eyes widened in fear.

It was a woman in a long, black robe. She was taller than mommy, Leyla thought, and her long blonde hair ran down almost to her waist. Her dark, heavy eyes were what scared Leyla though, and the cold feeling she got in the pit of her stomach. Squeezing her own soft, brown eyes shut, Leyla tried to push herself back into the corner as far as possible.

The woman spoke, and the surprise at the kindness of her voice startled Leyla enough to stop her struggling. "Hello, little one," the dark woman smiled warmly, and it was a complete contradiction from her aura in the Force. "Can I call you Leyla?"

She just stared blankly at the woman.

"Are you hungry?" the woman continued, unfazed. "It will still be a few days before we reach our destination, and you'll want to keep your strength up after that nasty hit on the head."

_Wait- what?_ Something of her confusion must have shown on her face, and Leyla thought in chagrin about what her grandpa Han had told her about keeping a 'sabaac face.'

"Don't you remember?" the woman adopted a worried tone. "Some bad people came to take you away from your parents." Vague memories of a firefight in her apartment started to filter in. "Your mother sent you with me to keep you safe, in case they came back again."

"I don't know you." Her tone was stubborn and firm.

The woman smiled, a sickeningly sweet look that was completely insincere. "Of course not; if everyone knew that I was your mother's friend, the bad people might come looking for me to get at you. But don't you worry- I can keep you safe and a friend of mine is going to start training you in the Force."

Something in Leyla's eyes flickered. "Mommy says I have to be older before I can go to the academy and learn to be a Jedi."

"Yes, dear, but that was before people wanted to steal you from your parents; now, you need to learn to protect yourself."

Leyla said nothing, well aware of the fact that she was being deceived in some way. But for now, there was little she could do about that.

Not bothered by her lack of response, the woman leaned over and unbuckled the restraints with sharp-nailed fingers. "I'll send something for you to eat, Leyla," she leaned down to meet her at eye level. "Once you're feeling better, we can talk more. Oh," she turned as she was almost out the door, "my name is Xela. Call for me if you need anything."

Leyla watched her go and then slumped back against the uncomfortable cot, willing herself not to cry.

Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene.

Hiyan Pletrsky slipped through the door to his apartment, exhausted from a day of battling Galactic Alliance Security types who were continually digging through his data files, looking for any sort of a clue as to who had snatched the young daughter of Jagged Fel, diplomatic liaison to the Chiss, in the middle of the prior night.

As head of the embassy's cyber-security, he had been among the first interrogated by the GAS intelligence heavy hands who accompanied the computer and forensics experts. For an hour, he'd sat under harsh lights and repeated the same things several times- first, that his authorization code had been forged and no, he did not know by whom; second, that there had been no sign of a breach in system security in recent months; and third, that the Imperial codes used to gain entry into the system would not have passed screening even at the Imperial Embassy and, therefore, he did not see how they could be considered complicit in the crime.

Sighing and dropping his briefcase on a counter, Hiyan headed wearily for the comfortable chair in his living room… and stopped dead, seeing someone already sitting in it. Before he could say or do anything, the door separating the living room from the front hall slid shut, and Hiyan turned on the spot, confused and alarmed.

He was more alarmed to notice the lightsaber the man was twirling between his long fingers. "Who are you?" he asked, inwardly wincing at the high-pitched fear in his voice.

Not responding, the man stood suddenly, came forward, and performed a fast search for any hidden weapons or comlinks. Finding none, he seemed satisfied and gestured towards the chair. "Sit." Hiyan did, shaking slightly. "You are Hiyan Pletrsky?"

"I am," he said slowly, wondering if he was signing his own death sentence in admitting it- not that it would take the man long to know the truth one way or another, he supposed.

"Relax," the man took a seat on a sofa against the opposite wall. "I'm not here to harm you. I just require some… information. About last night's affair…"

Slightly reassured by the promise of not being harmed, Hiyan squeaked in annoyance. "I've just spent hours with GA security on the matter and told them everything I know…"

"Wrong," the man interrupted smoothly. "You told them everything they _asked_. I have some different questions, if you'll oblige me."

"Do I have a choice?" Hiyan muttered. "I thought you Jedi were above cloak and dagger intimidation."

A low chuckle startled him. "Let's just say that I have several philosophical differences with the rest of the Jedi. Hiyan, my name is Kyp Durron." Any remaining color drained from his face. "I take it you've heard of me?"

"I'd have had to been living in a cave on Dantooine for the past twenty-five years to _not_ have heard of you," he snapped.

"Excellent," Durron seemed unfazed by his tone. "Then you know that I mean business. This will be very simple- I know you had nothing to do with the planning of the kidnapping last night," Hiyan let out an involuntary sigh of relief, "but you've been working with Imperial security and intelligence long enough that you might be some use to me. I'm going to run some names and code names by you; if you've heard them, in _any_ context, you're going to tell me about them. Understood?"

Hiyan nodded weakly, frozen to the chair.

Durron pulled a datapad and thumbed the controls a few times, searching for the proper screen. "Ah- first: Grawdin Yortevin." He shook his head. "Trint Poqat."

Hiyan started to shake his head and then paused. "Maybe… there was a Poqat years ago, he was in charge of an elite training force under the Emperor's personal command."

"What happened to him?"

Hiyan shrugged. "He disappeared after the Battle of Endor, most figure he was on board when the Death Star blew."

"Lorsi Klimpo." Another shake of the head. "Xela." Nothing. "Red Fist."

Hiyan hesitated, and Durron's brows rose, waiting. "I… I'm not sure. There were rumors of a secret organization called Red _Hand_ that sprang up after the Emperor's death; possibly a reference to his guards, maybe to blood, I don't know."

"Who were they? According to rumor."

"Loyalists, they wanted to revert the remnants back into a true Empire, but they needed someone worthy of the title of Emperor to achieve it."

Durron frowned heavily. "Someone worthy? Another Sith?"

"I don't know. Like I said, they were rumors and it was a long time ago. There was a Moff with a supposed involvement called Morgny, but he died… probably fifteen years ago by now. Assassinated, in his sleep."

"Suspects?"

"You'd have to pull the files, I was only vaguely aware of the incident at the time."

Looking mildly frustrated, Durron keyed something into his datapad before turning back to him. "Morgny- where was he murdered?"

Hiyan searched his memory. "It was in his palace… his governate was in the Atrivis Sector, I believe, though I do not recall which planet he used as his capital."

For a long moment, the two men sat across the room, one still and petrified, the other grim and pensive. Finally, Durron stood and paced a few times before turning sharply to Hiyan. "Can you think of anything else about Poqat or Red Hand that you've neglected to tell me?" Hiyan shook his head. "Very well- if you don't struggle, this won't hurt…"

"Wha- oh!" Hiyan slumped backwards in his chair, knocked unconscious by a blast of the Force. The cloaked Jedi leaned over his prone form, pressing his fingers to his temples and erasing all knowledge and memory of having encountered Kyp Durron at all that evening. He'd wake in a few hours, surprised at how exhausted he had been to simply fall asleep as soon as he sat down.

Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene.

Jag drew his arms around Jaina as they sat wearily in her parents' apartment. Han and Leia had spent much of the day prior moving anything of need or value from Jag and Jaina's ruined apartment, once GA Security had finished their sweep- and, predictably, turned up little of any use. Now, he sat grimly facing his in-laws- Han, Leia, and Jacen, and even Luke and Mara Skywalker were present via holofeed.

"Are you absolutely positive that your transmission feed is secure?" Jag asked Han and Mara, who had set up the link. They nodded, too solemn to be annoyed as his questioning of their abilities in discretion. "I have to tell you now what Kyp told me, and then we can't talk to or about him again until this is over."

Luke looked thoughtful, glancing at Jaina. "I had wondered where he was during all of this." By the looks exchanged between Han, Leia, and Jacen, so had they.

"Yes," Jag acknowledged. "Kyp sensed a problem and came for Leyla; he arrived minutes after me, too late to do anything. He told me to get together any pertinent information about the ploy at the embassy and meet him- which I did, yesterday afternoon. Then he left- taking the one surviving commando with him."

A murmur of surprise rippled around the room. "Sneaky," Mara said approvingly. "Did he learn anything useful?"

Here, Jag hesitated, knowing that this was where some of them would be angry. "He wouldn't tell me anything. I gave him his information, and he said that he was going to follow up on what leads he had from the commando, cross-referenced with my data chip. He indicated that the rest of us should continue on as we would anyway, and for all intents and purposes, Kyp is just another Jedi."

"And just what does he plan on doing with this information he won't give the rest of us?" Han asked sharply.

"I don't know," he admitted. "But he seems to think that it will require a certain amount of distancing himself from the Jedi order, maybe because of this dark Jedi woman. I think he intends to approach this from a… different angle, while whoever has Leyla is busy focusing on what the rest of us are doing. And Kyp doesn't want them to even suspect that any of their attackers survived."

Mara was grudgingly approving. "It's a smart strategy. Kyp's a dangerous man when he wants to be, and the only thing worse than a surprise is a dangerous, personal one."

"That's what Kyp seemed to think," Jag agreed. "So he asks that any of you who know the truth of Kyp's relationship with Leyla and with us ignore it. Whatever happens, just react as though he's another loose-cannon Jedi."

Luke looked mildly amused. "Shouldn't be too hard." He sighed and looked around at his family. "So where does that leave us? Surely we have somewhere to start?"

"We don't have much," Jaina said, defeated. "Just some old Imperial transponder codes, a wild-goose chase of a security code slicing, and an unknown dark Jedi woman."

"Okay," Luke said slowly. "I'll start seeing if there's anything to be found about the woman; she's certainly not one of the academy's former students, but she could be the student of someone who came through here, or an old apprentice of Brakiss even… "

Jag's voice was soft as he squeezed Jaina's hand in his. "Thank you, Luke."

"In the meantime," Han broke in, "Leia and I will see if we can get anywhere with those old codes. And who knows? Maybe we'll find ourselves paying a visit to our old friend Pellaeon."

Jaina smiled a watery thanks to her family but said nothing, desperately hoping that whatever lead Kyp was following on his own was more promising than what her family and friends had unearthed in the past two days.

**End Part III**


	5. Part 4

**Part IV**

Kyp Durron poured through the archives for hours, but he had known from the beginning that finding any reference to 'Red Hand' or 'Red Fist' was unlikely, save, perhaps, in the context of the assassination of the Moff Pletrsky had told him about.

The primary problem, Kyp figured, was that at the time during which the rumors were seemingly active, the Empire was undergoing its greatest turmoil. In the years following the emperor's death, the splitting of Imperial warlords, the New Republic's capture of Coruscant… records had been lost and destroyed, governments had moved, and purposeful sabotage of intelligence, such as under Grand Admiral Thrawn, had simply left a large portion of years incomplete in the palace archives.

His next stop was the Jedi library, but that seemed even more unlikely to yield anything worthwhile; most of those records were simply copied from the government's and added to what little had been salvaged of the old Jedi archives; but even those just stopped decades earlier, a sudden cessation of history that sent an eerie, reminding chill down Kyp's back about the Jedi Purge undertaken by Palpatine at the onset of his Galactic Empire. Only since the end of the Yuuzhan Vong war had the Jedi taken up a presence on Coruscant once more in an attempt to centralize their members and message.

Try as he might, he couldn't get the thought out of his head that, if anyone could tell him something useful, it was someone right under his very nose. Approaching her to ask would entirely undermine everything he had told Jag Fel about keeping his movements quiet, but it was undeniable that there was one person who knew more about the last years of the Empire than anyone else living.

Kyp needed to talk to Mara Jade Skywalker.

Her intimate knowledge of the emperor and the inner-workings of the system were unrivaled, and if anyone would have had information about a secretive underground organization, it would have been the 'Emperor's Hand.' Later in life, she had connections to the seemingly omniscient Talon Karrde, who reveled in the acquisition and selling of information, and later her role in the Smuggler's Alliance would have kept her well informed of goings-on around the galaxy.

Sighing, Kyp glanced around, using the Force to distract an archive librarian looking his way. He quickly and efficiently deleted all traces of his searches before standing and striding from the console, leaving it as infuriatingly bright and welcoming as when he sat down some four hours prior.

Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene.

It seemed to Leyla that this Xela woman was not particularly smart.

Three days after she had woken, Xela was still acting as though everything was okay, that she was protecting Leyla at her parents' wishes and that she would be allowed to contact them when it was safe to do so again.

Clearly, she knew that the young girl was Force-sensitive, but apparently she did not consider that the Force would tell Leyla that everything Xela said was a lie. If her mommy had sent her away, then she would not feel the constant, nagging worry from her and the rest of mommy's family. When she was alone, Leyla allowed herself to try to focus in on her mother's presence in her mind, but it wasn't something they had ever practiced over any sort of distance. Nevertheless, she tried to exude the idea that she was alright- for the moment.

Despite her gnawing fear, Leyla did her best to remain calm for the frightening woman who came into her room a few times every day to 'see how she was doing.' She might only be seven, but her parents taught her early that it was best to keep a cool head. Her mother even taught her how to use the Force to calm herself a little, and she found herself drawing on that as much as she dared.

The other thing she'd learned early in life was from Grandpa Han- emotions give your opponent a weapon against you. Granted, her grandpa was talking about sabaac, some game that Leyla didn't really understand, but she was pretty sure he had meant it to apply to real life as well. Trusting that assumption, Leyla remained quiet as much as possible when Xela came to see her, and tried to downplay her awareness in the Force, lest Xela think she could use it against her.

Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene.

Jaina tried her best not to hover as Zakarisz Ghent started on his third hour of work attacking the situation with the stolen authorization codes and falsified emergency beacons. An astounding amount of equipment was arrayed around him as he worked furiously as the console in the embassy that had been remotely activated to send Jag the emergency transponder five days prior.

In his mid-forties now, Ghent still looked like a naïve, nerdy teenager who spent too much of his time in front of a computer terminal and other pieces of technology he could in some way decode, encrypt, hack, slice, or put back together.

In fact, that's generally what Ghent still did with most of his time. After having spent more than a decade as the New Republic Crypt Chief, he'd retired to go back to what he liked best- tinkering with his various toys and tools on his own time, working on the projects he wanted. Periodically, he still took tough jobs within the GA, and this particular job was at least proving a challenge.

Despite the knowledge that there was nothing she could do to speed up the process in any way, Jaina was horribly impatient for results. If Ghent could find the ultimate source of the phony beacons, then it might provide a clearer lead for her parents as they tried to pinpoint a conspirator among the thousands of employees for Coruscant space defense and traffic control who had manually bypassed the usual security protocols for the two shuttles that had participated in the attack.

Another half hour passed before Jag returned from his office where he had been discussing a temporary replacement for his position with the representatives from the Chiss Ascendancy. His work had been neglected at best in the past five days, and he had waited with barely contained frustration while the aristocra of the ruling families had deliberated on who to send in his stead.

"Come on, sweetheart," he took Jaina's hand and pulled her away from the terminal where Ghent was doing work that even she did not understand. "You've been sitting here for hours. Ghent will call us if he turns up anything, right?"

The older man nodded distractedly back towards Jag, barely having registered his arrival, and continued his work.

Jaina allowed herself to be led away without comment. Silently, the dejected couple descended several levels on the turbolift to a lower level where the joint Chiss-Imperial Embassy shared a cafeteria with a wide range of foods featured from dozens of Imperial and Chiss worlds. He led her to a private room, meant for meeting dignitaries and other state officials, and he studied the food synthesizer distastefully.

"You have to eat something," he reluctantly prodded her. She was quiet. "You barely sleep, and I've not seen you eat more than a handful of nutri-pills a day…"

"Just pick something," she snapped, and then looked apologetic as he programmed two more-or-less random selections from the 'human' list, though his face betrayed no anger or annoyance towards her. "Sorry," she muttered. "I just feel so… _helpless_."

He sighed. "Me too. Probably even more than you. At least you can sense her and feel that she's alright…" he paused. "She _is_ still… right?"

Jaina was quiet for a moment as she attuned her senses, reaching for that special bond she shared with their seven-year-old daughter. "She's still alright physically… but she's afraid and… nervous, I think. Like she's anticipating a change soon maybe…"

"Perhaps they're nearing a final destination," Jag said quietly, and Jaina bit her lip, looking down. Both knew that their best chance of locating her would be to discover anything before they hid her away on some far, unknown planet. "Is there any chance that we'll narrow down where she is based on the time of the journey…?"

"Not really," she said emotionlessly. "In five days, they could be anywhere, they could have stopped somewhere, delayed and backtracked just to prevent anyone from pinpointing a more accurate range…"

They settled back into an uneasy silence. Jag wanted to ask her if she could sense anything about Kyp's movements, but if they were being spied on in any way… he had always made it a practice to scan public places like this for listening and recording devices, but after everything that had happened, he wasn't sure how far he trusted any of that anymore. For now, all he could do was follow the Jedi Master's orders precisely and hope that his silence was indicative of progress.

Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene.

It was as usual a morning as ever for Ferrin Belotab, the chief of staff to the GA chief-of-state Cal Omas. Sitting attentively, he listened and made notes during an infrastructure planning meeting regarding the as-yet-untamed underworld of Coruscant that still teemed with Yuuzhan Vong wildlife. In five years, construction and repair crews had done an extraordinary job combing the upper levels of the city, gradually opening new districts as they were deemed functional again, but the lower hundred fifty levels or so had been neglected even before the invasion; now, they were simply feral.

"Have you tried asking Jacen Solo to talk to the World Brain any further… oh, but of course," Omas rubbed at his temples in wearied exhaustion. He turned to look at Ferrin. "Has there been any sort of progress on the Fel girl?"

"No, sir," Ferrin said. "They brought in Zakarisz Ghent to see if he couldn't uncover anything that the Jedi couldn't. He's been working on it since last night, but the last update I had suggested that he hadn't made much substantial progress."

One of the engineers spoke up hesitantly. "We didn't want to bother Solo while the whole family is still trying to track down his sister's daughter…"

"No," Omas nodded, "you're right. We can get by without him after all this time, I daresay," a ghost of a smile touched his lips. "Now, as to your proposal for scheduled demolition-"

He was interrupted by a loud tap at the door, and then his wide-eyed twi'lek chief secretary opened it. "Chief Omas?" she said shakily. "There's a GA Security team out here demanding access to this room…"

Everyone at the table looked around in bemused consternation. "Well, send them in, Ra'ani," he waved at her to open the doors, and then sat up straighter in surprise when six heavily armed men pushed past the nervous twi'lek and took up positions in the doorway. "What can we do for you?"

Their commander spoke clearly in a no-nonsense tone. "We are here to take one Ferrin Belotab into Galactic Alliance custody."

Ferrin's face drained of any color it might have had. "Why?"

"Yes," Omas sounded appalled, "what are the charges?"

"Conspiracy and accessory to the abduction of a GA citizen and daughter of diplomatic personnel."

"What?" Ferrin said aghast at the same moment that Omas exclaimed, "Ferrin!" Further entreaties were stopped short as a new figure stepped through the doorway, a short, brown-haired young woman in a grey jumpsuit, lightsaber deactivated but in hand.

As Ferrin Belotab looked into the fierce and piercing eyes of Jaina Solo-Fel, his stomach dropped, and he wondered why he'd bothered to get out of bed that morning.

**End Part IV**


	6. Part 5

**Part V**

"This is preposterous," Ferrin muttered weakly as binders were applied to his wrists behind his back. "Chief Omas… you know me, you know I'd never…" he trailed off as he caught the infuriated gaze of the twenty-five year old Jedi woman.

For his part, Omas sat, stunned along with the rest of those with whom they had been having an ordinary, tedious meeting only moments before. As the security team walked him through the door into the outer office, Omas snapped out of his astonished stupor and jumped up to follow. "Wait just a moment!" he called after them. "I demand to know on what grounds you are accusing my chief of staff!"

The man in charge read in clipped tones from a datapad. "Substantial evidence has been uncovered linking one Ferrin Belotab's personal computer to a remote infiltration into the security system at the joint Imperial Chiss Embassy, and thereby knowingly creating a diversion to facilitate the attack on Envoy Fel's apartment six standard days ago." Ferrin looked about hopelessly as security experts sat down as his work console and began pulling data files and records, while another attached a slicing device to his datapad. "Another team is en route to Mister Belotab's apartment," he briefly showed the warrant to Omas for Ferrin's arrest and the investigation of his home and work files.

With a man flanking him from each side, Ferrin was led miserably through the office, entirely too aware of the attention that the debacle was drawing from the rest of the staff present. "Chief Omas," he called forlornly over his shoulder, "I don't know how this happened, but I can assure you that I'd never do something like this. I'll get this straightened out, I promise."

"I know you will," Omas said a little unsurely, Ferrin thought bitterly. Before he had time to ponder his immediate fate, however, Solo's sharp voice rang out.

"Stop." The security team paused as one, seemingly unbothered. The Jedi squeezed past the man in front of Ferrin and stood, staring into his eyes. "Did you hack into the Chiss Embassy's security system?"

"No!"

"Did you in any knowing way participate in the capture of my daughter?"

"Of course not! Mrs. Fel…" he trailed off weakly, seeing the despairing expression in the woman's eyes.

She sighed heavily. "Release him. He's telling the truth."

They hesitated a moment. "Are you sure?" the man in charge queried his young companion.

"Yes," her voice was thick with frustration. "If he had any part in this, it was unknown to him." Letting out a quiet sigh of relief, Ferrin rubbed is wrists in the restraints came off. "But that doesn't change the fact that someone _did_ use your computer, Mr. Belotab," she said pointedly. "Do you live alone?"

"I- no," he stammered. "I'm married. But my wife doesn't have access to my clearances or anything…"

Solo-Fel snapped a comlink from her pocket and shushed him. "Jag?"

A few seconds later, a tinny voice responded. "_Yes? Problems?"_

"In a manner of speaking- he's innocent."

A pause. "_You're positive_?"

"Yes."

"_Okay. Well we just arrived at his apartment, the team is already setting up the computer slicers."_

She bit her lip. "Be careful. There's definitely something not right about-" An explosion of static burst from the small speaker. "Jag? _Jag!_" Stricken, she turned to her security team. "Come on," she snapped. "And _you_," she pointed at Belotab, "come with us."

Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene.

Jag Fel coughed to clear smoke and dust from his throat. The acrid stench of burning wires assaulted his nostrils and he fought to keep from gagging. He looked down at the comlink in his hand, pressed the transmit button a few times, but knew it was useless- the explosion had taken out the signal relay. Cursing, he rose to his feet, not entirely sure when he had fallen in the first place, and surveyed the scene.

Two men were dead, another injured. Two more men were wrestling a woman to the ground who apparently had used the explosion as a diversion to get away- and clearly failed. The team leader staggered over to Jag, apparently a bit dazed from the blast.

"The system was rigged; it blew the moment it fully powered up."

Obviously. "Who is she?" Jag gestured at the woman gnashing her teeth and struggling on the ground.

The leader hesitated. "We think she's his wife. It's unclear whether she caused the explosion or just ran because she was afraid…" he glanced down at the angry woman. "I'm leaning towards the former option, however."

"Me too," Jag muttered. "Jaina just called me- she seems convinced that Ferrin isn't our man, so…" he glanced at the woman, "I guess that makes her the new primary suspect number one. Come on," he looked around nervously, "our comm is down. Let's get her in the transport and get someone up here to take care of the bodies, and to see if anything from that computer is salvageable."

The woman laughed hideously. "There's nothing on there for you," she grinned. "I erased _everything_ before you got here…"

Jag fought the urge to slam her against the wall. "Get her out of here," he bit. He stayed behind a moment to investigate the wreckage while they slowly maneuvered the struggling woman into the hallway. As he stared at the mangled components, he forced himself to remain optimistic, hoping desperately that there was _something_ that would get them somewhere in this mess. Somehow, he foresaw it taking a _long_ time to get the woman to talk.

When he reached the hangar bay on the roof, he was only a few steps behind the guards and their captive. The transport angled around, ready to load them up, when another GA security vehicle came careening into view. Jag's initial response was alarm, but before it even touched down, Jaina was leaping out of the open hatchway, using the Force to cushion her long drop to the roof.

"Are you okay?" she ran into his arms. "What happened?"

He gestured grimly at the woman. "She blew the computer; killed two men."

The second transport touched down and Ferrin Belotab rushed forward, ignoring the warnings of the guards on the roof. "That's my wife!" he contested hotly. "Trina, honey, what's happened? Release her this instant," he demanded of the impassive guards. "Trina- why aren't you at work?"

He met her eyes earnestly- and then his expression faltered at the steely coldness of her gaze. "Trina?" he whispered.

"Your wife," the team leader said harshly, "just killed two of my men. Back aside, sir."

"You- wait! Trina, talk to me! I'm sure there's been some sort of mistake here. Whatever you think it is that my wife has done…"

"Ferrin!" He stopped as his wife spoke up for the first time. "Shut up."

Jag cringed inwardly at the devastation on Ferrin's face as he read the truth in her eyes and demeanor. "I don't believe it… I _can't_ believe it. Trina- did you help kidnap that little girl? Why would you do that? Who asked you to?"

He continued to search desperately for answers and received no reply. Suddenly, Jaina felt a tingle race down her spine. She looked up and saw a speeder maneuver into position…

"Cover!" she yelled, leaping forward, knowing instantly who the target would be…

The shot rang out. The speeder tore away. Jaina landed next to Ferrin, heart racing, staring uncomprehendingly at Trina Belotab- who had a faint trickle of blood emerging from the corners of her mouth. The guards on either side of her didn't seem to know what to do.

And then she was falling to the ground. One of the security men set to work, attempting to save her, but Jaina knew it was too late. Just like everything else… they were too late.

The medic looked up at Jaina with reluctant failure on his face. Wordlessly, she walked away, leaving the dead woman and her shocked husband on the ground. Jag was staring up into the sky in helpless confusion and anger, knowing that, by now, the speeder had disappeared into the lower levels of air traffic amongst hundreds of other craft.

He caught Jaina as she slumped against him, silent sobs wracking her small body.

Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene.

Mara Jade Skywalker panted as she finished the run through the forests with two of the older students. It was a humid day, and the moisture seemed to cling to her jumpsuit and permeate her hair, making her feel gross all-around.

In other words- a normal summer day on Ossus.

She dismissed the two students who, much to her satisfaction, looked even more exhausted than she felt, and headed inside the stone temple, established as the new Jedi academy at the end of the Yuuzhan Vong war, following the terraforming of Yavin IV and the destruction of many of the existing structures.

On the way up to the small living quarters shared by the Skywalker family, she stuck her head into one of the training rooms and smiled, seeing her eight-year-old son Ben sitting and listening attentively with some of the youngest Jedi students as Tionne sang a ballad of ancient Jedi lore. Giving a small wave to Tionne, she went on her way, riding the turbolift up another few levels. Approaching the door of her quarters, she reached out a hand to palm the release pad… and stopped.

Someone was inside waiting.

Luke was downstairs, helping some of the most advanced students understand the finer points of lightsaber construction. She could feel him, safe and relaxed. And she'd just seen Ben. Frowning, she reached out and tried to ascertain the identity of the person inside her quarters. The other's presence was drawn in tight, but when they sensed Mara's probing touch, they allowed her greater access. Mara straightened in surprise, and then hurried in the room, closing the door behind her.

"Kyp Durron," she acknowledged, locking the control panel. "You've been under the radar of late."

"I've been busy."

She studied him. His eyes were dark and blazing, but the rest of his face was relatively relaxed; she wondered if he'd just arrived and perhaps put himself in a trance for the flight. "Any progress?"

"That's why I'm here. I need some information that you might be in a unique position to provide."

Her lips quirked. "Ah, I see. Smuggler information? Empire information?"

"Have you ever heard of an organization called 'Red Hand' or 'Red Fist'?"

She froze and then turned to look sharply at him. "Yes."

"To which?"

"Both."

He frowned. "Are they the same thing?"

"No," she leaned heavily against a cool, stone wall. "Not as such. Red Hand was formed by the Emperor himself, it was among his most guarded secrets, after the storehouse on Wayland perhaps. It was overseen by a Moff-"

"Morgny?"

She looked surprised. "You have been busy," she murmured. "Yes. Morgny was in charge of the security of the project, though I am sure he was not entirely aware of the full extent of its reach."

"What was the purpose?"

Mara sighed and searched her memory. "The Emperor was as big a hypocrite as he was a megalomaniac. Red Hand was designed to ensure the continuance of knowledge in the Force, but modeled more strongly after Sith teachings I suppose than Jedi ones."

"That seems… counterintuitive," Kyp quirked a brow.

"Yes, well- he wanted to know that his legacy would live on. He never succeeded in training a proper apprentice after Vader, and he didn't fully believe that Vader would be strong enough to continue the Empire when he was gone, given how much of his life he spent as a half-cyborg. So rather than deal with the inevitable power struggle between Vader and a new apprentice, he created a group of firmly-controlled Force-sensitives. They weren't trained fully- sort of like myself, I suppose- but they were enough that, should Vader and the Emperor fall, they could surge up and resume his work and keep the Empire intact."

Kyp's smile was mirthless. "I take it they failed."

She snorted. "I certainly never heard from them again."

"What about Red Fist?"

She hesitated briefly. "Red Fist was meant as a call sign, signaling the network associated with Red Hand that it was time for action." Kyp's blood ran cold. "They had a legion of spies across the galaxy, in all territories, infiltrators in places you'd never expect. Each had a role to do, some job that would facilitate the transfer of power."

He was calculating. "The emperor has been dead for thirty-odd years. Is there any possibility that this has survived?"

Her expression was skeptical. "Given the political maelstrom since then, it seems unlikely. Besides- Morgny has been dead for fifteen or twenty years now. Kyp?" she asked softly. "Where did you get this from?"

"The commando who survived the attack. It was a term he had heard in passing from the woman who accompanied them."

Mara's eyes widened fractionally. "You don't think… Belotab's wife…?"

"The chief of staff?" Kyp frowned, and Mara realized he'd been out of communication in hyperspace for probably three or four days during the journey.

"Yes," she said. "Ghent dug up a lead that incriminated Ferrin Belotab; Jaina and Jag followed up and it turned out that it was his wife who had done the hacking, not him."

"Did they get anything?" he demanded.

She shook her head sadly. "Someone gunned her down on the hangar pad on the roof of the apartment building. Last we got any news, Ghent was working with the GAS teams, trying to reconstruct anything from the computer in their apartment that she blew just before."

Kyp balled his hand into a fist. "It's a possibility, I suppose," he said. "Do you have any names I can back-trace?"

"Just some old codenames," she said apologetically. "I wasn't allowed to know much of anything about them."

Two minutes later, she passed his datapad back with five heavily encrypted codenames. He stared down at it and sighed before looking back up at Mara. "You do know what I have to do now, right?"

Her eyes narrowed and she let out a heavy breath. "Just make it convincing, Durron."

In another moment, she was unconscious, and he caught her with the Force before she hit the floor. Maneuvering her down on to a small sofa, he leaned over and pressed his fingertips to her temple, carefully searching for information…

And then he was sweeping out of the temple, hood up around his face, distracting younglings with a wave of his hand, making them forget they ever saw him. Mara would wake up soon with no memory of Kyp ever having been there.

**End Part V**

**A/N**: Hope you're enjoying. Comments are always welcome to let me know one way or another. ;-)


	7. Part 6

**Part VI**

"Commander," Croyel shook the hand of the returning conqueror warmly. "We've been eagerly awaiting your arrival." He looked around. "Where are Xela and the girl?"

"Waiting in an empty conference room, sir," Commander Uliwa said shortly. "Xela felt it would be best if I debriefed you properly first."

He nodded. "But of course. Losses?"

"Seven."

Croyel winced. That was more than half of the strike force. "Any loose ends?"

"Negative, sir. All were properly disposed of prior to our departure. And unfortunately, we were unable to obtain the mother. She proved… a challenging opponent."

"One woman took down half of your team?" Croyel asked, surprised.

"She is Jedi," Uliwa said, perhaps a bit snidely.

Croyel reflected on that a moment before shrugging. "It was a mission well-done, commander. I'd like to see the girl."

Uliwa led him to the room where Xela sat at a large table opposite a small, dark-haired girl. Croyel studied her as she met his gaze with large, brown eyes. Surprisingly calm for a seven-year-old away from her parents, he wondered if Xela was doing something to soothe her using the Force- not that Croyel really understood how such things worked.

"Leyla," Croyel smiled in what he hoped was a reassuring manner. "How are you?" She stared back stonily and Croyel directed a bemused look towards Xela who shrugged. "My name is Qadrik, and I'm most pleased to make your acquaintance." Nothing. "You're probably tired after that long flight."

"No."

He looked at her in surprise. "Beg pardon?"

"I've been sitting, bored on a ship, for a week. I'm not tired."

"Ah… of course…" he looked again at Xela who seemed exasperated, and wondered if this wasn't how things had been going from the start. "Well, then I suppose we can get started right away. Commander," he turned to Uliwa, "leave us."

The armor-clad man did so, and Xela stood, walking around the table to hover behind Leyla.

"Leyla," the woman spoke in a deceptively soft voice, "we've brought you to a very special, hidden place where the people trying to kidnap you can't get to you. How would you like to go and meet your new teacher?"

The girl seemed unsure of herself. "I…" she frowned. "I still don't think I want to learn to be a Jedi just yet."

Croyel blinked. He expected her to demand to see her parents, or to know where she was. "Well we don't have to start your training right away," Xela soothed, long-nailed fingers coming to rest on the back of Leyla's chair beside her shoulders. "But we should get you into the safe house, okay?"

The girl shrugged. Xela pursed her lips and pulled back the chair, and Croyel led them into the secret passageway that ended in a turbolift, and they plummeted together into the cool bunker deep beneath the earth.

Xela swept ahead, long blonde hair raining down her back, contrasting sharply with her dark cloak. At the end of another hallway, she pushed open the door and strode forth into a large antechamber. "Lord Wrynn," she called by way of greeting.

"Ah, Xela!" the man in question strode forth, breaking away from a group of similarly clad apprentices. "Wonderful to see you again." His sharp eyes looked once at Croyel and then settled to rest on the diminutive figure standing nervously, large eyes darting around as four apprentices gathered around to watch. "And you must be Leyla," he smiled warmly.

"Y- yes," she whispered, much to Croyel's chagrin after she'd blankly ignored his attempts to be friendly.

Wrynn surprised all present by kneeling down on the ground to be at eye-level with the child. "Leyla, my name is Wrynn. I am going to teach you everything you need to know about the ways of the Force."

Leyla frowned in consternation. "My great-uncle Luke is going to do that," she muttered, "but thank you for offering."

"Leyla," Xela said a bit sharply, "I told you, it's too dangerous for you right now to be with your family. It's much safer for you here, and with the Force, you can protect yourself-" Wrynn cut her off with a hand.

"Leyla," he said lowly, "I understand that you're probably afraid, and worried about your family. But I promise you that everything will be alright. Leyla, did you know that you're a very special little girl?" She shook her head suspiciously. "It's true; you're brave and smart and powerful, and one day, you are going to help me take care of the galaxy. I'm going to be the new emperor and, when you're old enough, you'll rule with me as empress."

He finally got a reaction from her; unfortunately, it was not the reaction that the rest of the chamber expected. Suddenly, without warning, the girl started to cry. "What's wrong?" Wrynn asked. "Don't you want to be the empress one day?"

She shook her head and sniffed. "My great-granddaddy served an emperor," she whispered. "And he was a bad, bad man."

"Did he now?" Wrynn looked bemused. "Well a lot of people had no choice and were forced to serve him, but I'm not like him. I won't make you. Was your great-granddaddy an officer, or a pilot perhaps?"

Croyel held up a warning hand and shook his head.

"My great-granddaddy was a Jedi," she said softly, "but then the emperor made him do bad things and changed his name, and he became a bad man too until my great-uncle Luke turned him back to the good side."

Wrynn stared stonily at Croyel for a moment before smiling lightly down at Leyla. "Why don't you accompany Xela now, she'll show you where you're going to stay while you're here with us. Go on," he encouraged her. "You and I will have plenty of time to get to know one another later." He watched the two depart before turning his dark eyes on the Moff.

"You brought me the great-grandchild of Darth Vader, and didn't see fit to mention it?"

Croyel was legitimately confused. "I'm sorry, Lord Wrynn… I thought you knew. Leia Organa Solo and Luke Skywalker are the twin children of Anakin Skywalker, later Darth Vader."

"And how," Wrynn said dangerously, "would I know that? I've been living down here for four decades, since I was just a boy barely older than that child. I rely on you for any news of import."

"I thought my predecessor would have told you," Croyel said carefully. "There were several attempts to turn Luke Skywalker, and later to capture the girl's mother and her two siblings, in the hopes of restoring the line of Vader to the glory of the Empire. Those attempts were mostly abandoned by the time I disposed of Morgny."

Wrynn looked supremely chagrined. "Well, Morgny was an incompetent fool, but no matter. If anything, this only convinces me further that we were meant to seize the girl and train her for her inherited duty of restoring order and justice to this galaxy."

Croyel was preparing to take his leave when he remembered another crucial piece of information. "Oh, my lord- our contact who infiltrated the systems at the Imperial Embassy on Coruscant was discovered. She has been neutralized."

"Good, good," Wrynn said distractedly. "What of her contact among the Jedi?"

"Ah- the Jedi has long-standing instructions to remove him or herself from the situation to avoid detection, in the event that her contact was uncovered. Their identity has been kept under the tightest secrecy, even _I_ have no clue who it is… but if they follow proper protocol, they will meet a contact of ours in two weeks in a backwater location where the other Jedi will be unlikely to pursue."

Wrynn smiled. "Good. And how go the plans for the dear Admiral?"

"The strike team is ready; they await my signal."

Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene.

Han and Leia slumped dejectedly in front of the holoscreen, watching the evening news with little interest. "How is it," Leia asked softly, "that in two weeks, we've turned up almost nothing."

"Because these people keep killing each other when they're afraid they might talk," Han retorted snarkily, but tempered his tone with a soft touch to Leia's knee. "I'm worried, honey."

"Me too. There's something huge at work here and no one seems to have the slightest clue who is behind it or where to even start." She sighed heavily. "I just can't stand the look on Jaina's face every evening when she finally agrees to get some rest; like she's _failed_ Leyla because she hasn't found her yet."

Han put an arm around her shoulders. "Hey, were we any different all those years ago?"

"I guess not," she conceded. "But the attempts on Jacen, Jaina, and Anakin were the ill-conceived attempts of Imperial renegades mostly who didn't really know what they were doing. This… this is something well organized and efficient." She paused. "If only one of their commandos had been taken alive."

Translation: I hope Kyp got something worthwhile from the one that was.

"Yeah," Han said gruffly, "that would've made everything a whole lot easier, huh?"

Translation: I sure hope Kyp knows what he's doing.

"Maybe," Leia said hesitantly, "maybe we're going about this the wrong way. Maybe we need to go back to basics."

Han glanced sidelong at her. "Basics?"

"Maybe there's nothing to find on Coruscant."

"All of our leads are here, and without knowing where that shuttle was headed…"

She interrupted. "We have no more leads, Han, face it. But what happened to the days when we were always in the fray, constantly in the thick of the action? Maybe we need to really jump in and actively start looking for _her_, and not people who can lead us to her."

"We don't know where to start."

"No," Leia admitted, "but we have an entire order of Jedi more than willing to lend their assistance. Many of them know Leyla personally. Surely the Force would guide at least _one_ of them in the right direction. It would be easier if Leyla were older, was better trained in her own skills, but Jaina is positive that their link is still strong, if a little… fuzzy around the edges."

He looked contemplative. "You think Leyla can guide us to her?"

"It could be worth a shot."

They both started when the comm center beeped with an incoming message. Standing quickly, the rushed to it and accepted the transmission, surprised to see Luke standing there, looking more perplexed than worried.

"Han, Leia," he smiled. "I'm glad I caught you."

"Sure thing, kid," Han leaned in. "Just sitting around, pondering our own uselessness."

"Yeah…" Luke trailed off and looked away.

Leia frowned. "What is it, Luke?"

He pursed his lips and took a deep breath. "Someone attacked Mara."

"_What?_"

"She's fine," Luke put in hastily. "But… I found her unconscious in our quarters yesterday and she's a little… confused. Like she's just lost a part of her memory and can't remember where she was for a period of time."

"Is Ben okay?"

"Yeah," Luke looked bewildered, "everything else is normal around here. It's really strange. I just wanted you to know though, in case there's any sort of connection… though what that might be, I really can't say."

Han and Leia exchanged worried looks. "Any unexpected visitors to Ossus?" Han asked.

"If there were any, they slipped by me- and the flight logs."

"Alright," Leia frowned. "We'll keep an eye out. Take care of everyone there, okay Luke?"

"Will do. We all send our love; hug Jaina for me."

Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene.

Kyp Durron arrived in-system in the dead of night of Imperial City. A false transponder signal gained him access to the planet- just as it had let him off-world a week prior. Really, he thought disgustedly, it was far too easy to forge one's way on and off Coruscant. But for now, that worked in his benefit.

He landed his XJ X-wing in a public hangar, listed under a fake name and stolen access code. From there, he rented a closed-hatch speeder and wove his way in and out of traffic lanes, invigorated by sudden action after three days mostly spent in hibernation trances, a few-hour foray on Ossus, and before that, another few days spent in the cramped cockpit of the starfighter.

The area around the Government Archives was mostly silent this late, as the archives themselves were closed overnight. Still, there was a usual smattering of security personnel- nothing a Jedi Master couldn't slip past.

He spent two hours hunched over a console, running aliases that Mara had provided him. Three turned up dead ends, either complete enigmas, or traced back to individuals who had definitely died sometime in the past several decades. One name ran completely in circles, with Kyp unsure of what the real name among the slew of pseudonyms could possibly be- if there was one at all.

The last name was interesting, however- it was clearly traceable, after a few steps and cross-checks, back to an old Jedi woman who had died before the start of the Yuuzhan Vong war; she wasn't anyone the Jedi order had ever encountered. Rather, she had come from the Wild Regions, the trainee of a Master who had fled the Purges- at least, that was according to her apprentice who came to Luke Skywalker upon her master's death to continue her own training.

Her apprentice who was now a full Jedi Knight.

Her apprentice who was one of the few Jedi permanently assigned at the Jedi Temple on Coruscant.

**End Part VI**


	8. Part 7

**Part VII**

Brionia Sumptri looked nervously over her shoulder for the tenth time that night, despite the fact that she was in her own private room with the door closed and that it was hours before dawn still. Something just didn't feel right. Maybe it was nervousness.

She had waited patiently for a week, watching and anxious, wondering if Belotab had been wrong, if somehow they would find her after all- not that there would be much she could give away to the authorities besides her own small role as information-passer. And a rendez-vous…

If she didn't leave soon, she wouldn't make it on time. The flight to Excarga was a long one, and she wanted to be sure to have enough time to make a couple of decoy stops first.

In truth, she was terrified of what was to come next. Her former master, Niwali Tentatu, had sent her forth to continue her life's work; but she hadn't said much about what that work was. Just that things had changed, and Brionia would serve best if she could infiltrate Skywalker's new order, that someone would be in contact with her in due time.

And then Trina Belotab had materialized in her life when she found herself among those who worked maintaining Jedi/government relationships on Coruscant following the end of the Yuuzhan Vong war. Trina had been very explicit in her instructions, and Brionia was suddenly watching and listening- not spying, just being observant- to her fellow Jedi. Information was passed along, and still she waited, and all Trina told her was that, if something happened to Trina herself, Brionia would do best to try to escape.

She had given her a location with instructions to wait two weeks after Trina's capture or death before meeting representatives from above to receive further instructions. There was a recognition code that Niwali had given her more than a decade ago, that Trina had used to confirm her identity, and she wasn't sure if she would need that now.

For a grueling week, Brionia had jumped at shadows, not even relying on the Force to tell her she was alone and safe. When she passed along the information about Jaina and Jagged Fel bringing their daughter before the Masters to test her abilities, she'd not thought much of it. But she wasn't stupid. It was obvious that it had been the catalyst leading to the girl's abduction, and Trina's arrest and death were broadcast all over the HoloNet as related to the incident.

Now Brionia waited for vengeance from Jaina Solo's very intimidating family. As far as she saw it, her only hope for survival in the long-term was to meet with Trina's contacts at Excarga as planned in the hopes that they could protect her.

Shooting a last fleeting glance over her shoulder, Brionia reached out, sensed no one in the hallway outside her room, and opened the door. When it closed behind her again, she felt as though a part of her life was simply over, knowing that she'd never be able to set foot back inside the Jedi temple once she fled tonight. It wouldn't take the Masters forever to put together what had happened- of that, Brionia was sure.

Feeling more and more confident as she descended towards the lower hangar, she slung her travel bag over her shoulder and took up a faster pace. It was still early, but she knew that some of the temple's residents liked to get an early start on the day, and she needed to be long gone before anyone thought to look for her.

She almost made it.

As she turned into the hallway that led to the lower hangar, a tingling sensation ran down her spine. Before she could react, a blast of invisible energy sent her flying into the far wall, and with a light tug, her lightsaber spun free from her belt and soared into the outstretched hand of a tall, hooded and cloaked man.

Groaning and blinking stars out of her eyes, she tried to focus her vision as the man crouched in front of her and gripped her chin firmly, forcing her to meet his gaze. "Ma- Master Durron?" she choked. "What are you…?"

"Shut up," he snapped, jerking her head slightly. "How long have you been spying for them?"

"I- I don't know what…"

"I don't have time for games," he snarled. "Either you tell me freely, or I'll pry the information from your brain, and believe me- that's a much more painful way of doing it."

She tried to control her anxiety. "I didn't know about the girl," she pleaded. "I just sent information."

"To whom?"

Swallowing heavily, she tried to pull her face from his grasp, but he was unrelenting, searching her eyes for the truth of what she said. "Trina Belotab. I don't know anything else."

He smiled thinly. "I think I can be the judge of that. How long?"

On the verge of tears, she controlled her breathing. "Since the temple on Coruscant opened. But I spent years before that waiting to be contacted."

"On the orders of Niwali Tentatu?"

She nodded as best she could.

"Where are you going now?"

"I…" she trailed off as she felt Durron stiffen. Moments later, echoing footsteps could be heard, and Brionia made a fast decision. Durron was angry and she suspected he'd be less-than-reluctant to use violence to get what he wanted. Someone else- anyone else- would at least give her the semblance of a fair proceeding… "Help!" she called, hoping desperately that they could hear her. With a snarl, Durron turned back to look at her. He opened his mouth, seemed to reconsider, raised the lightsaber he'd taken from her, and knocked her upside the head with the handle, sending her into black oblivion.

Kyp cursed the timing and, ignoring the faster footsteps, leaned over the younger woman, and pressed his fingertips to her temples, performing an act he hadn't since he had misguidedly stolen information about the Sun Crusher from the mind of scientist Qwi Xux when he had been just a teenager.

Rummaging fast and furiously, knowing he'd cause more damage doing this than he had intended, he pried relevant information from her head; it was fairly easy, since his interrupted interrogation had inadvertently drawn it to the forefront of her mind anyway. When he was satisfied that he had anything that could be of use, he closed his eyes and struck the memory of the encounter from her brain, and then went deeper, eliminating all knowledge of her espionage involvement- which, unfortunately, meant pulling entirely too much information about the last decade or so from her mind.

She would wake up and remember coming to Skywalker's praxeum on Yavin IV… would have vague recollections of being trained before then, knowledge of fighting the Yuuzhan Vong war, helping establish the new temple on Coruscant. But her entire purpose in all of that time was now gone, lost to the cool air of the temple- and to Kyp's own mind.

As he pulled his hand from her head, the footsteps rounded the corner. "Kyp?" he heard the confused voice of Kenth Hamner as the older man hurriedly approached the fallen Jedi. "What happened? I thought I heard Brionia call out…"

"Stop," Kyp raised the stolen lightsaber, unlit, but threatening. "Don't make me harm you as well, Kenth."

Hamner stepped back, shocked at the cold anger in his voice. "Kyp?" he asked quietly. "What's wrong?"

"Goodbye, Kenth."

And he turned and left, thanking the Force that Hamner was smart enough not to attempt to pursue him, instead turning his attention to the unconscious woman on the ground. If it had come to it, Kyp would have made a show of fighting him because now… now, _he_ had to try to become who Brionia had been, until he stole her memories. Her next purpose had been to meet some unknown contacts on Excarga- hopefully, they didn't know who she was either. Otherwise, this would all be for nothing.

Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene.

Jaina looked sadly at Jacen and Zekk, who promised to remain diligent, pursuing any leads, however unlikely, while Jaina and Jag left with her parents to rendez-vous with the Fourth Fleet near Gyndine. It was a long shot, but they were hoping that Pellaeon might have some insight in regards to the old codes used, or that he could at least point them in the right direction of where to start researching the matter. The Imperial records would, undoubtedly, be of more use in this particular matter than the sketchy ones from that time period held by the GA joint archives.

Jacen hugged her tightly and fed reassurances to her through the Force. They didn't particularly help, but she smiled her thanks and turned to Zekk, who pulled her into another fierce embrace. "We'll find her, Jaina. Half the galaxy is on it by now."

Jag shook their hands in turn before hoisting their light travel cases. Moments before they stepped out the door of the Solos apartment, however, Leia's comlink beeped. Frowning, she pulled it from her belt and thumbed it on. "Yes?"

"_Leia, it's Corran, I'm sorry to bother you."_

Her brows rose in surprise. "Corran," she acknowledged, "what can I do for you?"

"_I know you're_ _about to take off, but your family might want to stick around. Something's… happened. Here at the temple. The Masters are preparing to meet. I don't want to say much more right now."_

"Oh… okay," she glanced around at Han, Jaina, and Jag, who shrugged, momentarily distracted from their troubles. "We'll be right there." She switched off the comlink and turned to Jacen and Zekk. "You guys coming?"

The six of them barely fit into the speeder for the short trip across the couple of kilometers to the temple. Jaina was glad for the foresight to deposit Threepio at the _Falcon_ early to start the preflight checking sequence.

The temple was relatively empty, and they found many of its inhabitants in the Masters' meeting chamber. Also present were Luke, Mara, Kam, and Tionne, via holopad, and a Jedi woman of around thirty who Jaina vaguely recognized but couldn't place her name.

"Ah," Kenth Hamner stood upon their entrance, "good, you made it." A low murmur of subdued greetings met Jaina's ears. She ignored them. "I know that these past few weeks have been trying on us all, and especially to the Fels and Solos," he inclined his head respectfully, "so I hate to bring a new problem to light."

"What is it, Kenth?" Luke asked, frowning heavily.

Hamner took a deep breath. "Mara, I think we know who memory-rubbed you several days ago. There was another incident in the lower levels of the temple this morning, and Jedi Sumptri here has been heavily affected by the assault."

Mara's voice was hard. "Who?" she demanded.

"Kyp Durron."

Jaina closed her eyes and willed her gut-wrenching shock to dissipate. Jag had warned them what Kyp had said, but never did she dream that _this_ was what he meant. Toying with others' minds was dangerous, brink of dark-side behavior… depending how one used it, she supposed. He must have had a good reason for both acts- she hoped- but it didn't make it any easier to handle hearing about it.

"I awoke early," Hamner continued, "and was leaving my quarters to go up to an upper-level balcony to meditate, and I sensed a conflict of sorts… then I heard Brionia call for help. I found her unconscious outside the lower hangar, and Kyp was standing there, about to depart. He threatened me…" here, Hamner looked a little self-conscious, "I decided to see to Brionia instead of following. I have tangled with an angry Kyp Durron before, and am well aware that I would not come out on top of another such encounter," he flexed the fingers of his prosthetic hand unconsciously.

Luke sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Do we have any idea where Kyp has gone?" No one said anything, though Jaina thought she caught Corran Horn looking in her direction briefly. "Does anyone have any suggestions on how to handle this?"

Saba Sebatyne spoke in a low hiss. "This one thinkz a third slip iz too many timez to forgive. Dark business, this iz."

"What are you proposing, Saba?" Cilghal asked evenly, ever the mediator.

"These onez should expel him from the order."

Kyle Katarn spoke up softly. "We'd have to find him before we could really exact any sort of… consequences. And at the moment, I'm not sure how many resources we're really willing to put into tracking a rogue Jedi Master," his gaze flickered consolingly over Jaina and Jag.

"I think," Corran Horn's voice was somber, "that this council is overlooking one… disturbing possibility."

"What, Corran?" Mara asked sharply.

He looked remarkably reluctant, but forced himself to say it. "Due to the timing of recent events, can we ignore the possibility, however slim, that Durron was involved in the kidnapping of Leyla Fel?" A stunned, astonished silence met this question. "It might seem a long shot," he allowed, "but we don't know what transpired between Durron and Jedi Sumptri, nor between Durron and Mara, assuming it was in fact he who attacked her. He erased memories- in Jedi Sumptri's case, a _lot_ of them, enough to affect some of her Jedi powers. What did she know? Why was he so desperate to keep her from talking?"

Luke looked skeptical, and Jaina couldn't tell if it was an act or if he was truly considering Corran's preposterous proposal. "Can you imagine any sort of a motive Kyp would have for kidnapping Jaina and Jag's child?"

Corran's gaze drifted slowly over Jaina, his head slightly tilted as though asking her something…

And she knew. With a heart-stopping suddenness, she realized that Corran Horn knew the truth, that somehow, he had learned of the true relationship between Kyp and Leyla. She shook her head ever so slightly, all the while trying to silently scream into his head not to say it, that he would jeopardize everything Kyp was trying to do…

Corran flinched and looked away. "No," he muttered softly. "I suppose not. I only bring it up because of the timing."

If anyone else had noticed the silent confrontation between Corran and Jaina, they didn't comment on it.

"I think," Luke said slowly, "that Master Katarn is right. Kyp Durron has always been… unmanageable, to a degree… and now is not the time to fight that fight. We can put out a watch for him, but I suspect he'll be traveling under a false identity for the time being. If we do learn anything of his location, perhaps we can follow up on it then."

The assembled group murmured their consent and parted ways. Avoiding Corran Horn, Jaina pushed her parents towards the door, eager to be on their way, where they could talk in relatively security aboard the _Falcon_.

**End Part VII**

**A/N:** uh oh… Kyp's in trouble…! :P


	9. Part 8

**Part VIII**

Wrynn watched little Leyla as she sat disinterestedly in a corner with one of his apprentices, a young man named Vulcor, in mild frustration. After a couple of weeks, he'd expected her stoicism to give way, for her to break down and demand answers, or give up and accept what they were telling her. Instead, she remained oddly impassive for a seven-year-old, expending minimal effort whenever anyone made an attempt to probe her powers in the Force, and giving stilted answers to any questions asked.

Part of him was proud and a little awed by her self-control. The other part was annoyed and wanted her to break so that they could truly start training her. From what little she displayed, it was clear that Croyel was right, that this small child possessed an abnormal capability of Force-talents- but he wondered how much of that capability lay dormant under the surface and how much she was able to draw on unbeknownst to him.

With an effort, he pulled his attention away from her and directed it back towards Moff Croyel. "How long until our Jedi contact is due to meet with our liaison?"

"Two days," Croyel said, chewing thoughtfully on a ration bar. "I'm glad you bring it up though, my lord- I think I might have guessed the identity of our contact and, if I'm right, it is… a pleasant surprise."

Wrynn finally gave his full attention to the Moff. "Oh?"

"Yes, sir… apparently the government has just issued a location report for a Jedi Master by the name of Kyp Durron. It seems he was involved in some sort of incident with Skywalker's wife and another in the temple itself on Coruscant."

"Durron…" Wrynn searched his memory. "That's a name I recall. Fell to the dark side years ago, didn't he?"

Croyel nodded. "He was possessed by the spirit of an ancient Sith lord. Skywalker claimed he was redeemed, but Durron is remarkably powerful and he knows it, and it tends to make him… brash. During the recent war, there was a period where he seems to have slipped again back down the dark path- though honestly, I thought he had the right idea, going around and killing collaborators by the dozens."

"That is interesting," Wrynn murmured approvingly. "He would make a great asset- or a formidable opponent, if you're wrong. Tell me about these 'incidents'."

Croyel pulled a small datapad from his pocket and thumbed through a briefing page. "Ah. From what I've gathered- the Jedi weren't horribly explicit in their own release- Durron has a gift for mind manipulation, wiping memories and the like."

"And he did this to Mara Jade?" Wrynn sounded almost pleased. "Perhaps you _are_ right, my dear Moff," he smiled. "She has long been a loose end to this operation, and that has rankled me for decades. I wonder if our Jedi informant had the foresight to eliminate that threat before we make our larger move."

"It seems likely, my lord."

Wrynn clasped his hands together. "I shan't get my hopes up until I meet our faithful infiltrator. But when we do, let's give him- or her- a welcoming thanks they won't forget." He paused and glanced over towards Leyla and Vulcor. "What do we know of Durron's relationship with the Solos and Fel?"

"Ah…" Croyel consulted his notes. "Longstanding friendship with Han Solo, who freed him from slavery when he was just a teenager; on and off antipathy between him and the Skywalkers, and the rest of the Masters; it seems he apprenticed Jaina Solo briefly early in the Yuuzhan Vong war, but alienated her soon after. No obvious personal connection remaining to this day."

"Hm," Wrynn pondered this information. "Well assuming Master Durron is our man, we should perhaps be wary about how much we divulge right away. He may not yet be aware of the full extent of his role in what transpired on Coruscant, and if he's still friendly with Han Solo… it could be a tense subject."

Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene.

The atmosphere aboard the _Millennium Falcon_ was still tense on the third day of their four-day jump to Gyndine. Jaina could sense everyone's questions about Kyp, wondering what he was doing and why, but no one seemed willing to ask them. She wasn't sure if it was because they knew that she didn't know any more than they did, or perhaps they feared upsetting her further… but in either case, the sound of silence was deafening.

After another hour spent reaching for her daughter's mind in the Force, she was exhausted. With no other way to comfort herself or Leyla, however, Jaina found herself often retreating into her mind, attempting to stretch across the distance, willing the Force to give her any sort of a clue as to her missing child's location. Nothing had transpired yet, but at least she received consistent reassurance that Leyla was okay, and as time went on, Jaina grew more and more convinced that whoever had her didn't intend to harm her.

This was both a relieving thought and a frightening one. If they weren't after ransom or some other political goal, and bore no ill-will towards the girl herself… what did they want with her? With the vaguest sensations of memory, Jaina recalled being sequestered on the remote planet of Anoth with Winter. The idea had been to keep her and Jacen, and later Anakin, away from dark powers which would corrupt their young minds irrevocably.

But Leyla was older, her mind already matured significantly, not as easily molded. It worked both ways though- being older, she possessed a greater ability to tap into her Force powers, and it was still early in her training; indeed, she'd only received informal instruction from family on basic mental shielding and emotion suppressing, maintaining telepathic links with her mother, that sort of thing. That certainly opened up the possibility for someone to start trying to train her in all the wrong ways.

The idea that some unknown person could be trying to shape her daughter into a tool of the dark side made Jaina's heart clench, and she let out an involuntary sob. Jag shot up from where he'd been leaning over the small work desk in the cabin, studying a datapad as though willing inspiration to jump at him. He put it down and crossed to where she lay flat on the bed, a hand over her mouth to suppress the sound.

"Please," he whispered earnestly. "Don't cry, Jaina." He pulled himself up on the small bunk, nudging her onto her side where he could wrap his arms around her and bury his face against her neck and in her hair. "I love you."

"I know," she sniffled, earning a muffled chuckle.

He gently swept her hair back from her face and kissed her cheek. "You can't give up hope."

"I haven't. I won't."

His lips traced a line down her neck. "I need you too much," he murmured. "If you despair, I won't know what to do. Your strength is my strength and I need you to stay strong for me, and for Leyla."

"I will."

He pulled her onto her back again, balancing on an elbow to lean down over her. His free hand reached up to caress her face softly, and he slowly pressed his lips to hers, wondering when had been the last time they'd done something so simple as kiss like this. She was reluctant at first, but he deepened the kiss, desperate for a connection with his too-often despondent wife. She moaned quietly against him, and he counted it a huge success, making her feel _anything_, if only fleetingly.

And it was short-lived. After a minute, Jaina pulled away and smiled sadly. "Not like this," she murmured. "I love you too… but I can't do this now."

He understood. Placing one last, soft kiss against her forehead, he settled back down beside her, drawing her into his arms. For a long time, they lay like that, taking comfort in each other's presence, and Jag thought that Jaina seemed a little calmer than she had been in weeks.

Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene.

After a long journey, Kyp found himself staring, unimpressed, at the mining world of Excarga. Jedi business had never brought him to this particular gem of the outer rim, but he had been to enough industrial worlds, settling smuggler disputes before the onset of the most recent war, that he knew well enough what to expect.

He was two days early and, as his potential investor alter ego Lorig Laxern descended towards the planet's atmosphere, he wondered if he need have bothered arriving so far ahead of schedule. Instructions that he had pried from Brionia's mind were that he be in the capital city- a spaceport more than anything- on a bridge overlooking the river at sundown, two weeks to the day from the incident that had forced her departure- or his, in this case.

Everything hinged on what would happen two days from now- he knew from Brionia's mind that she never had contact with Red Hand outside of the wife of chief of staff Belotab, that she had no clue who she would find at the end of the road. The question though, was whether _they_ knew who they'd be meeting. In which case, this would quickly go from an infiltration mission to a tracking one when the liaison left after Brionia failed to show.

Failure in this was not an option. He could tell from his periodic glimpses into Jaina's mind that the search was still relatively hopeless on her end, that they were grasping at straws to come up with new leads in light of the sudden assassination of Trina Belotab on the roof of her apartment, and her destruction of the computer used to force her way into Jag's embassy.

Periodically, Kyp reached out a tentative probe into Leyla's mind, always wary of avoiding alerting her to his touch. As far as she was concerned, he was a close friend and no more, someone who visited Han and Leia's apartment frequently when she was there with her parents, but Kyp didn't often go over to Jaina and Jag's place. It was hard sometimes, not seeing her very often, but it had been Kyp's decision alone, when Leyla was just two years old, that it was best if they wait until she was old enough to fully understand everything before revealing her true parentage.

Despite that though, he shared a close bond with his daughter, and had almost since he first met her when she was just over a year and a half old. He could tell that she was aware of their connection to some small degree, but didn't realize its full extent and probably wouldn't until the day when Jaina, Jag, and Kyp sat down to explain to her that Kyp was actually her biological father.

For now though, that one-way link worked in his favor. The last thing he wanted was for the girl to think that he might be coming for her, lest she inadvertently give him away at the moment he was trying to insert himself in this secret organization, but he would have a clearer idea of whether he was following the right path because of his own awareness. As he settled in the hangar bay in the spaceport, Kyp reflected for the hundredth time on the fortunate foresight to retain the secret of Leyla's paternity. He was going to give these people an unpleasant surprise that they weren't likely to forget for some time- if they survived.

**End Part VIII**


	10. Part 9

**Part IX**

Admiral Gilad Pellaeon stood somberly, flanked by his usual entourage of personal guards, and watched the slow descent of the _Millennium Falcon_'s disembark ramp. He had spoken briefly to Leia Organa Solo regarding the rendez-vous between the family and Pellaeon's Fourth Fleet, currently performing maneuvers near the recovering world of Gyndine, which had seem much terrestrial damage in the Yuuzhan Vong war. Five years later, the GA had managed to resume the efficiency of the ship-yards, but the planet and population still suffered as a result of the destruction.

Organa Solo had vaguely indicated that they wished to speak to him privately, regarding something to do with the missing Fel girl, and he was all too willing to provide any assistance he could- though he suspected that it wouldn't be much. If they had a promising lead with which he would help, it wouldn't have taken nearly a month for them to seek him out.

Han and Leia Solo came down the ramp first, and Pellaeon stepped forward to greet them properly. "Admiral," Leia smiled, though it didn't quite reach her eyes. Han didn't even bother attempting to be pleasant, he just shook the older man's hand and inclined his head in a rough acknowledgement. Pellaeon glanced up and saw a slightly haggard-looking Jagged Fel and a deflated Jaina Solo coming to join her parents.

"Colonel Fel," Pellaeon greeted them. "Jedi Solo-Fel; please allow me to express my sincerest condolences. If I may be of any assistance at all…" he let the offer hang questioningly, and Jag nodded his thanks.

"You might actually, Gilad," Leia stepped in. "It's a bit of a reach, but we've run out of options at this point, I'm afraid."

"I understand," he nodded sadly. "Come, let us adjourn to my private cabin, we can send for some refreshments after that lengthy flight of yours…"

They followed the admiral and his guards through several layers of the flagship, walking slowly and silently, and Pellaeon couldn't help but wince and think of a funeral procession, given the forlorn silence thoroughly enshrouding them. When they finally reached the cabin in question, he briefly pondered taking them into the formal reception room, but decided that it seemed it horribly bad taste, and led them instead to a small but comfortable sitting room with enough comfortable seating for the five of them.

He programmed a selection into the unit on the wall, and just a minute later, a tray emerged with five identical glasses on it, an invigorating concoction that seemed apt given the relative dreariness of the gathering. "Now," he sat in a chair opposite Jag, "how might I be of assistance?"

Jag was all business. "Very simply, our last unchecked lead pertains to the use of old Imperial transponder codes to enter Coruscanti space; someone within space traffic control manually overrode the usual security proceedings and cleared two shuttles to land and take off again with old codes that never would have gotten through unchecked otherwise."

"Hm," Pellaeon frowned, "how old?"

"At least thirty years; probably older."

"And the shuttles themselves?"

Jaina shook her head. "Nothing I recognized," she spoke for the first time, surprising Pellaeon with her tight voice. "A generally Imperial design, but nothing that's been used before. The flight manifest lists them as old Tee-eight-forty models built in Nirauan, but they certainly weren't eight-forties."

Leia spoke up softly. "All we wondered was whether you had any suggestions of where we might start looking to cross-reference codes that old, in the off chance that their origin provides some clue as to who might still be using them today."

For a long time, Pellaeon was quiet, thinking. "I can run them through the database," he said slowly, "but not everything survived the turmoil of the decade following the Battle of Endor. And given the timing of their origin… it's possible that they never existed in the databases in the first place, depending on… who used them and for what purpose."

"The emperor's lackeys, you mean?" Han asked shrewdly.

The older man shrugged. "Much as Vader and Thrawn did with the Noghri, some secrets were _very_ well kept. But if there's something to be found, we'll find it. And either way, I think I'll send you to the Imperial Library on Bastion… have you ever been?" he queried interestedly. Jag nodded sharply but everyone else shook their heads. "Well, our researchers are top-notch, if there's anything to be learned from what you give them, they'll figure it out."

"We appreciate it very much, sir," Jag said, sipping curiously at his drink. Before anyone could talk further, Pellaeon noticed Jaina stiffen and look around uneasily.

"Jaina?" Leia too, sensed her discomfort.

The young woman blinked once or twice before turning her gaze on the admiral. "What's in the room across the corridor?" she demanded quickly.

"A formal gathering room, for meetings with commanders and squadron leaders, visiting dignitaries, the like… why?" he peered curiously at the Jedi.

She didn't answer. "Does anyone else have access to the room besides yourself?"

"Just my personal guards."

"Sweetheart, what's wrong?" Han asked.

"I think…" she frowned. "There's someone in there… but something isn't right."

Pellaeon stood swiftly. "Perhaps there's a problem in the Fleet; my guards might have expected me to take you in there, one of them might be looking for me. Excuse me a moment." But Jaina stood and followed him, almost in a daze. He keyed the access code to the ornate room and let the door slide back… and stopped short in surprise.

"Sergeant Husted," he said slowly. The man in question was pulling away a panel of the wall behind the head chair, but had turned, eyes wide, hearing the door slide open. "Might I inquire as to what you're doing?"

A range of emotions flickered across his face, and Jaina sensed a steely resolve, a cold hardening of the uniformed man as he slowly pulled something from his pocket. Their eyes met, and Jaina wrenched her gaze down to what lay in the man's hand- a remote detonator.

"Get down!" she yelled, for her family's benefit than anyone else's. Using the Force, she yanked Pellaeon backwards, and the two toppled through the open door and into the hallway. Moments later, the wall exploded outwards and Jaina lost control of her controlled shove. She went careening into the wall next to Pellaeon, and they both crumpled to the ground, unconscious from the blast and the impact.

Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene.

Leyla sat uncomfortably on the ground cross-legged, opposite Wrynn. He insisted that she call him Wrynn, even though she heard everyone else call him 'Lord' Wrynn. Leyla wasn't sure what to make of that; she'd never known a lord anything, but her grandpa Soontir was a baron, so maybe they were somehow related titles. She had also known a lot of Masters, like Master Horn and Master Cilghal, and once or twice she had met Chief Omas… and daddy was a colonel, and people sometimes called grandpa Han 'captain.' No lords though.

In any case, Wrynn was encouraging her to meditate, explore her feelings, feel the Force… she resisted the urge to tell him that her mommy had taught her how to do this two or three years ago and, instead, retreated to that part of her mind where she could feel her mother's comforting touch, and grandma Leia's, and uncle Jacen's… mommy's always burned the brightest, but there were always small presences from the rest of her family, even Luke and Mara and… sometimes… her friend Kyp.

Sometimes she thought about Kyp and had really fuzzy memories of seeing more of him when she was really little. Something about a birthday… whenever she tried to focus on it, it slipped away again. Ah well.

She went back to the comforting, ever-present touch of her mother and tried to draw herself in closer, to avoid the cold touches of some of the 'apprentices' down here. A couple weren't so bad… she didn't mind Vulcor. But Xela still frightened her, and she really wished that Wrynn would appoint someone else as her primary guardian.

Leyla couldn't quite keep track of how long it had been since she'd arrived here, but a frustrated part of her was resolved that it had been quite long enough. She didn't know how much longer she could appease Wrynn with her mediation sessions, and she generally refused to do anything that forced her to try to really use her Force powers like mommy did. Wrynn was nice enough, all things considered… but something wasn't quite right about him, and Leyla didn't think he'd mind hurting her if he got really angry.

A sudden shift in emotion caught her attention and she frowned, trying to focus her untrained mind on the sensations… worry, suspicion maybe… panic…

Her eyes shot open and she gasped. Mommy was hurt.

Wrynn caught her change in demeanor and opened his own eyes. Leyla did her best to keep her fear and worry from her face, but hot tears had already collected in the corners of her eyes and she blinked rapidly to clear them, using the calming techniques her mommy had taught her last year.

"Is something wrong?" the dark man asked kindly. She shook her head quickly and closed her eyes again, hoping he'd leave her alone- she wanted to find out what was wrong with mommy.

Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene.

The sky was grey.

The faint blurriness of a setting sun was visible through the smog, but the air was so dense and cloudy that it wasn't really much of a sunset. Nevertheless, this was the time. Kyp drew his cloak closer about him, well aware of every single passing being, keeping a careful watch out for the slightest sense of danger, that he was suspected, that someone was watching and leaving to report that Brionia failed to show up…

A figure approached slowly and came to stand a meter to Kyp's right as he leaned against the railing of a bridge that overlooked murky waters that he wouldn't even think about drinking. He remained still and impassive, waiting…

"I love a red sunset," a low female voice said.

He forced himself to remain calm. "Off-hand, I've seen better."

A faint sense of relief came from the woman. She angled her body slightly to better direct her voice towards him without truly giving the appearance that they were talking. Her face was shrouded in a black hood. "Welcome home, Kyp Durron. Hangar bay fifteen- one hour."

And she was gone. Kyp remained, staring out over the bleak waters running beneath a bleaker sky, and wondered how he'd been recognized, and whether it mattered. After five more minutes, he turned and strode casually back to the spaceport to collect his things from his ship. In a week or so, the spaceport operators would wonder what had happened to him and, eventually, would assume some unfortunate fate had befallen him on-planet and would auction off the craft. That was fine- if he got away with this, he could never come back to Excarga as long as he lived.

Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene.

"Report?" Croyel looked up at the innocuously clad man who served several purposes- guard, assassin, informant. Today, his role was of the latter purpose.

"Preliminary reports suggest that the attempt failed."

Croyel scowled. "How so?"

"Our man on the admiral's private guard misjudged the situation; he planted the bomb in his reception room, but Pellaeon took his visitors into his private study instead. When the man went to retrieve the bomb… it's unclear. It seems the Jedi tipped him off, and both were injured in the blast. Our man is dead, of course."

"Jedi? What visitors?"

The informant shrugged. "The admiral had just received Han and Leia Solo and Jaina and Jagged Fel."

Croyel thought that over for a long time. "Did he now? That is… interesting. Very interesting indeed. Who was injured in the blast? Organa Solo or Solo-Fel?"

"Solo-Fel."

"Will she live?" The man nodded. "Ah- pity."

**End Part IX**


	11. Part 10

**Part X**

Jagged Fel stared stonily at the bacta tank where his wife was presently bobbing lazily amid the healing bubbles, all too aware that he had come remarkably close to losing her the day prior. He tried not to think like that, but the way his entire life would have fallen apart, had that happened… he shuddered. With Leyla missing, and their best hope for recovering her a rogue Jedi Master who had alienated the entire Jedi order…

That wasn't really fair, he supposed. He'd made his peace with Kyp Durron long ago, and knew that the older man cared deeply for his daughter, that it was difficult for him to not be able to acknowledge their relationship. But frustration made him bitter, and he wanted nothing more than to be doing anything more proactive that hunting down ghosts of leads and now…

He looked up and saw Jaina blearily blinking. He allowed a soft smile to touch his lips and he pressed a hand to the tank. She looked a bit dazed, but she touched the other side of the transparisteel and gave a sad and frustrated quirk of her lips. He raised a hand, signaling that she'd be out in five minutes, and she nodded. Blowing her a kiss, he turned and left to give the droids room to lift her from the tank and check on the progress of her wounds.

Knocking once on the door down the hallway, he slipped inside and found Han and Leia already present, sitting next to a grumpy-looking Admiral Pellaeon. The elderly man's injuries had been less severe than Jaina's and, after a few hours in a bacta tank the evening prior and that morning, was deemed free of further treatment, but highly encouraged to remain for another day in the med bay. Sitting in bed did not particularly agree with the man of action, and he'd been furiously demanding updates and reports regarding the incident.

"Colonel Fel," he was temporarily distracted. "How is your wife?"

"Her treatment will be complete in just a few minutes, and if she's feeling up to it when she's dressed, the droids are going to bring her down here afterwards."

Pellaeon sighed. "I can't even begin to express my apologies for what has happened."

"Please, Gilad," Leia laid a reassuring hand on his arm. "It's probably us who are to blame, given the state of recent events…"

His face twisted into a grimace. "Actually, Leia… you may be wrong about that. But perhaps I should wait for your daughter to arrive before going into details."

If possible, Han's permanent scowl deepened but, for once, he said nothing. It was a tense silence for ten minutes, but the arrival of Jaina made everyone forget the discomfort. Jag stood hurriedly and directed her hover-chair next to his own seat.

"I can walk, you know," she said wryly.

"And I can run a battle fleet," Pellaeon smiled sardonically, "but they don't seem to care much about that."

"Touché, sir."

Pellaeon surveyed the family assembled before him, wondering not for the first time how one family managed to attract so much misfortune. "I've been getting updates on the attack," he broke the brief silence. "And I think I can confidently say that I was the primary target, not any of you."

"How could you know that?" Jaina asked quickly.

"The placement of the bomb, and its strength… all told, it was a fairly low-power blast and, as such, seems to have been targeted specifically for the head of the table. My demolitions experts are skeptical that it would have caused more than superficial injuries on the other side of the same room."

Han was calculating. "Explaining why the three of us," he pointed at Leia and Jag, "were perfectly safe in the room on the opposite side of the corridor. A full powered blast could easily have taken out the next three levels of the ship."

"Indeed." The admiral sighed heavily. "Husted was one of my closest men, he's been on my personal team for five years. And unfortunately, we've uncovered nothing indicative either way whether he was working alone."

"Would he have had any personal reason to want you dead, Admiral?" Jag asked carefully.

"Personal?" he thought. "Not that I was aware of."

Jaina spoke slowly, leaning heavily back in the chair. "Whether or not you were the target, Admiral… how is this possibly coincidence? We arrive, and less than an hour later, there's an attempt on your life, by your personal guard who has had access to you for five years and never gave so much as a hint that he was plotting to blow you up?"

"Perhaps the intention was to pinpoint the blame on you?"

That stopped Jaina short. It was possible… and even if it was a ludicrous claim, and implication of former chief-of-state being involved of the assassination of the former Imperial head-of-state… it would certainly throw a level of chaos into the political system….

"Gilad," Leia asked softly, following Jaina's thoughts. "What sort of opposition is there still to the Remnant's membership in the Galactic Alliance?"

His brows rose in surprise at the question, but he thought for a moment. "The usual trouble-mongering Moffs, to be sure. A few isolated factions within the military, but the general populace is amenable to the arrangement. Why?"

She bit her lip and shrugged. "It could be a worthwhile line of investigation to follow up on. If Jaina's right, if the timing is too coincidental to be pure chance… whoever is driving all that has happened, Gilad, they have a long reach. They've already planted seeds of suspicion in the chief-of-state's office, maybe the attempt on you is simply meant to further the spread of discontent." She looked around at Han, Jag, and Jaina, and saw no obvious opposition to the idea. "I think it's time that we check your database- and then we're going to Bastion to visit the archives."

Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene.

"What went wrong?" Wrynn scowled as Croyel delivered his progress report on the attempt on Gilad Pellaeon's life. "I thought our man was well-placed, that this would be a full-proof attempt."

Croyel smiled tightly. "Well, it should have been; but it seems that he misread a remarkably… intriguing situation. The rest of our strike team have reported back, it seems that Husted planted a bomb in Pellaeon's private reception room, where he might be expected to meet with other prominent galactic leaders."

"Was the admiral meeting with prominent galactic leaders?"

The smile hardened. "He was; the Solos. Leia Organa and Han Solo, and… the girl's parents."

A brow quirked. "That is… a strange coincidence. Do we know what they were doing there?"

"They seem to have given up on following any leads to the girl from Coruscant, and are turning their attention to the Empire. Unfortunately, Husted would have been best placed to know what the Solos and Fels requested of him, and he died in the attempt."

Wrynn looked thoroughly displeased. "Our man died, yet failed to take the admiral with him?"

"It would seem that Jaina Solo saved Pellaeon's life, and was badly injured herself in the blast. Already making a full recovery, however," he answered Wrynn's unspoken question. "They've all been under the strictest security in the medical bay since the incident, but reports indicate that the visitors intend to depart as soon as the girl heals fully."

For a long time, Croyel sat patiently while Wrynn pondered over their next step. They were alone, Croyel had passed two of the black-robed apprentices on his way through the bunker, at least one was retrieving Kyp Durron from Excarga, and he suspected another one or two were overseeing the Fel girl in whatever training Wrynn was trying to accomplish in the child.

"I think," Wrynn said lowly, "that it might be time to launch the armada."

"My lord?"

"This business with the girl's family makes me nervous," he admitted. "Could they have found something leading them to one of our allies among the Moffs, or in the military?"

He started. "It's highly unlikely. The closest thing they've had to a strong lead was getting to Trina Belotab before our assassin did."

"Perhaps she was unsuccessful in destroying any evidence on her husband's computer."

Croyel pursed his lips. "Let us hope not. Nevertheless, we must concede the possibility," he said reluctantly. "What target did you have in mind for the armada?"

Wrynn smiled steadily. "Why, the Fourth Fleet, of course."

Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene.

Her name was Tahlia, and she watched Kyp with something akin to awe when she wasn't focused on piloting the ship out of the Excarga system. For his part, he sat still and calm, forcibly hiding his discomfort as they two departed alone. She wouldn't say anything at all, begging his patience until they reached orbit and she could securely contact her base. Instead, he studied her appearance out of the corner of his eye. She was tall and lithe, with thick auburn hair that hung below her shoulders; she had a wide-eyed, eager face that exuded youth and innocence which threw him slightly off-balance.

In fact- she reminded him of a younger, less-hardened Mara Jade.

Once they were cleared out of Excarga's atmosphere, she keyed a heavily encrypted transmission and awaited a response. After a few minutes, a blurry hologram appeared of a nondescript man in no obvious uniform; Kyp ascertained nothing of his location or allegiance from an initial glance.

"Orders?" Tahlia asked. No greeting or acknowledgement was made between the two.

The man's voice was sharp and clear. "You are to rendez-vous with the armada; coordinates will be sent to you shortly. Instructions will be awaiting you when you arrive. Out."

She closed the open frequency and prepared the navicomputer to receive coordinates that were to come. Kyp watched with something akin to dismay, though he concealed his thoughts as best he could, unsure of just how attuned the younger woman's sensitivities in the Force were. He didn't know where Leyla was, but he was guessing that 'the armada' was not the answer. Not to mention… just what sort of armada did these people have?

That was cause for concern, to be sure.

The system beeped; Tahlia opened the message and keyed in a lengthy and complicated encryption code, feeding the resulting coordinates directly into the navigational computer and preparing for a jump to lightspeed.

A part of Kyp wanted simply to commandeer the small shuttle in the hopes that the return vector would take him straight back to the base and- hopefully- Leyla. Without knowing for sure though, it would completely compromise everything he'd done to this point and destroy his best chance at getting to her. So he sat and waited with barely restrained impatience while Tahlia finished calculating the jump, pulled back the levers, and the ship streaked into hyperspace.

Once she double-checked the systems, she sat back and turned to Kyp with an excited gleam in her eye. "You must have so many questions," she said quickly, almost breathlessly.

"Are you even allowed to answer them?" he asked sardonically.

"Oh," she sounded eager, "I was given instructions to tell you the basics, my master was under the impression that you knew very little of who we were this whole time that you've been serving us loyally."

Quite the understatement. He quickly searched any and all relevant information he'd stolen from Brionia Sumptri. "My only point of contact was Trina Belotab," he acknowledged slowly. "I was never privy to further information; she worried that being amongst the Jedi, it would be too difficult to keep such a long and delicate secret."

"Yes, we heard about your close call getting off-planet," she nodded sagely. "That's how we guessed who you were in the first place."

Well that answered that question. "Who is your 'master' then?" he asked. "And what are you called?"

"Of course," she seemed as though she'd been expecting these questions. "I'll tell you a bit about who we are first. Decades ago, Emperor Palpatine appointed a loyal Moff, Yarden Morgny, to locate young children with latent abilities in the Force, generally orphans and refugees who would not be missed by grieved families." Unlike Mara Jade, Kyp thought, who had vague memories of her distraught parents; unlike Leyla Solo-Fel, who had the galaxy in an uproar over her disappearance. "The emperor chose among his list, and had Morgny establish a safe house where the children could live and train together, well-hidden from the rest of the galaxy.

"They were isolated, kept away from news and knowledge of the outside world. Morgny was their contact, their caretaker, and the emperor visited periodically to investigate their progress. He expended very little effort training them, feeling that they would help each other to grow, and the ones with greatest initiative to explore further powers would emerge the natural leaders. He called his project Red Hand. Their purpose was the continuance of the Empire, and they had hundreds of contacts around the galaxy, ready to do what was necessary should the worst happen and the call be given for the revolution to start."

Kyp listened intently, thoroughly intrigued.

"When the emperor died though, my master was only sixteen, and he'd spent six years of his life hidden in the top secret bunker where Morgny established his safe house. There was debate; Morgny did not know what do to in the sudden chaos. No one had ever suspected that the emperor and Vader would die at the same time, and Red Hand was not ready to take action. Morgny was fearful, hesitant, afraid that the war against the Rebellion had severed too many of their links, that too many spies could have been discovered, or had died in war. So he decided to wait.

"Years passed; the apprentices grew lax in their training, having tested their limits as far as they dared without the presence of a proper master. My own master, Lord Wrynn, grew strongest among his peers, and he argued with Morgny; but Morgny chose to watch and wait, and slowly, the New Republic emerged the victor. The old Empire was dead."

Kyp spoke slowly. "It's… astounding that Red Hand has survived this long."

"Yes," she smiled, "it works because of contacts like yourself. If you'd been suspected and interrogated, you could have given away only one name. With such a tight network, Red Hand has been rebuilt since Morgny's death."

"Oh?"

She smiled thinly. "Morgny eventually delegated an assistant to the project, a young man named Qadrik Croyel. Moff Croyel- as he is now- agreed with some of Lord Wrynn's assessments of Morgny's weaknesses. Croyel killed him and took up his role as Moff. It has been fifteen years since Moff Croyel took over operations, and Wrynn decided that the old apprentices were to go out in the galaxy and do what they could to cultivate valuable resources- such as yourself." She practically batted her eyes and Kyp fought from grimacing.

Fifteen years… he did some quick math. Fifteen years ago, the New Republic under Ponc Gavrisom was finally making peace with the Remnant under Gilad Pellaeon. If ever there was a time to re-stir the discontent among the Imperial loyalists, that would have been it.

"In the meantime, Croyel sought new apprentices, like me, and we have been training with Lord Wrynn for a long time now, waiting until the right moment. We were close, but then the war…" she sighed. "We had to rebuild again after the Yuuzhan Vong ransacked the galaxy, but we have finally begun what has been decades in the making. The call has been given, Master Durron, and we are going to restore this galaxy to its proper state, under Lord Wrynn."

Kyp was careful with his words, not wanting to offend Tahlia or make her suspicious. "You know… under Palpatine's system, it would be expected that apprentices one day murder their master and take their place."

Her eyes widened. "Oh, no. We work together, we are a team. Lord Wrynn strongly believes that power must be cultivated for good, not destroyed out of fear."

Cultivated for good… Kyp supposed that was relative to one's opinion of 'good.'

"Who first recruited you?"

"Oh," he blinked, drawing Brionia's memories to the front of his mind. "Her name was Niwali Tentatu. She found me when I was… traveling, further exploring the Force. As I suspect you know, I trained under the Jedi Master Luke Skywalker for a time, but I found my progress hindered by his… tedious ways. Niwali found me in the Wild Regions and helped me further my understanding of the Force. Just before she died, she sent me back to Skywalker with instructions to watch and wait, that one day I would be contacted. I had begun to suspect that she was wrong, especially once the war happened, but one day I found myself talking unexpectedly to Trina Belotab."

"Well," Tahlia smiled, "you've been most instrumental in our recent progress- welcome to Red Hand."

**End Part X**


	12. Part 11

**Part XI**

"I'd like to learn something."

Wrynn stared at the resolute girl in surprise. In a month, she'd shown no initiative, no interest in furthering her powers in the Force, and had been beginning to wonder if taking her at such a young age _had _been a good idea, save the fact that, the younger she was, the easier they'd be able to rid her of her nostalgia for home and family. "And what would that be, my dear?"

Leyla pursed her little lips. "I want to learn how to remember things better."

He studied her curiously. "What do you mean? Do you want to be able to recall small details after something happens?"

She shook her head, whipping her braided hair around. "I want to be able to remember things from when I was little." Wrynn refrained from pointing out that she was still very little. "Sometimes I think I remember things from a long time ago… but then I don't."

"I… think I understand," Wrynn acknowledged slowly. "And is there a particular memory you want me to help you recall?"

Shrugging her shoulders, she did her best to look impassive. "No. I just think it could be fun to know how to do it in case it happens again." It was a total lie, of course; she wanted to try to remember what had happened before she woke up on Xela's ship, and Wrynn suspected as much. Nevertheless, he saw little harm in the matter. According to Xela, the girl had been sedated before she appeared, and the two men who had wrested her from her hiding spot had not survived the attack. The memory would tell her nothing.

"Very well," he nodded and smiled encouragingly. "Close your eyes. This is a neat trick, sort of like watching past parts of your life in a holovideo. Now clear your mind," he watched her relax, impressed at her mental control. "When you're immersed in the Force, and the stray little thoughts are out of your head, reach out for the moment you're trying to remember… if you have a glimpse in your mind, focus on that instance and let the image expand. Do you know of other people who were there? Envision them. How were you feeling, where were you? Let the pieces fall into place. Concentrate on your emotions, if you can remember them…"

Leyla was vaguely aware of her eyelids fluttering as she used the tips her mommy had given her for clearing her mind. Not wanting to investigate the situation when she'd been taken away from her home in front of Wrynn, she instead chose a different memory to practice on, confident that she could recreate the process in the privacy of her own room later.

It was a vague thought that had crossed her mind the other day, but it made her curious. She remembered having a party for a birthday… and it was soon after she'd gone to Coruscant with her parents, she thought, so probably her second one…

An image of two older girls stuck in her mind, and she pulled on it, drawing it around herself as she recognized them as the daughters of her daddy's uncle Wedge, Syal and Myri. Frowning in concentration, she imagined herself running around with them, playing hide and seek… and in the strangest sensation, she could actually _see_ it happening, and at once she was the younger version of herself, and an outside observer, watching the giggling two-year-old squirm and be tickled.

"Once you're there, allow yourself to drift back and forth in time, letting the images come from within you…"

She pushed forward, almost losing her concentration with the odd feelings. Focusing once more, she saw her mommy come get her and, they all sat down for dinner and cake… Leyla saw her parents, and grandma Leia and grandpa Han… uncle Jacen was there, and daddy's uncle's family… but she had the sense that someone was missing, and she wasn't sure if the thought was coming from her own mind or that of her two-year-old counterpart.

It _was_ like watching a holovid, she thought in faint amusement, as she sped over the boring part where she got cake all over her face and her family laughed. Then, she was saying goodbye to great-uncle Wedge's family, and drifting to sleep in grandpa Han's lap…

"_Gotta stay up," _her younger self mumbled.

"_Why, sweetie?_" daddy looked amused.

She yawned. _"Have to wait for Kyp…"_ And then she was asleep and the memory ended abruptly, jolting Leyla straight back into reality.

_Kyp_… she frowned, remembering why the memory had been on her mind at all, before the realization of her mommy being hurt had driven it away. While she was meditating, she had been focusing on all of the light presences in her mind, and just briefly, she'd felt a touch from Kyp. It must have elicited the memory of waiting for him, she supposed, since Kyp hadn't actually been present for the birthday itself.

Ah well. She gave a mental shrug. Later that night she could look further and see if he'd shown up after all.

Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene.

"Isn't it amazing?" Tahlia was breathless with wonder. Kyp was wide-eyed in astonished nervousness.

The 'armada' was huge, a full sized battle fleet, save the absence of large starcruiser-sized vessels- thankfully. "Where did they all come from?" he asked.

"We have our sources," Tahlia smirked wryly. "Ships slipped off of flight manifests, some claimed as casualties of battles where they were quietly sent away instead… crewing the bigger carriers was a little tricky, but we've had plenty of time to recruit those who are ready to see the glory of the old days returned."

Kyp desperately wanted to point out that she wasn't even alive during 'the old days.' He restrained himself. Again. "How long have they been amassing?"

"Oh," she thought, "I think some of them were on standby for us from the start… but when Moff Croyel took over, he consolidated the forces. The numbers expanded significantly during the war with the invaders." Kyp bit back yet another retort about the help such a fleet could have provided against the Yuuzhan Vong. "And some have only joined in the last several weeks, following the announcement of Red Fist."

She had reiterated for him what Mara had said, that Red Fist was the designator, signaling the start of the revolution. Given the timing, Kyp couldn't help but wonder at the connection the kidnapping of Leyla had to all of this, but he dared not broach the subject, lest it make her suspicious.

Tahlia pointed out a ship, the largest of the fleet by far. "We'll be docking with the _Red Hand_, our flagship," she said. It was a Corellian Dreadnaught, a ship with enough firepower to give an Imperial Star Destroyer a run for its money.

The rest of the journey was made in silence while Tahlia guided them towards the battleship and into the proper hangar, and Kyp stared around him, attempted to calculate approximate fire and manpower. It was impossible, given that he was unaware of the capacity of many of the dropships and fighter carriers that certainly held at least one squadron of starfighters- probably TIEs, Kyp assumed. Nevertheless, the magnitude of it all was astounding. Hundreds of ships all told, _thousands_ of people who had simply… disappeared during the past several decades and, by the sounds of things, mostly in the past fifteen years.

Not that it would have been hard to accomplish during the Yuuzhan Vong war. Who would notice a starfighter here, a carrier ship there, when trillions of beings died during the five-year slaughter?

Still reeling, Kyp forced an impassive look onto his face and followed Tahlia from the docked shuttle. They were alone in the hangar, and the sound of his boots against the hard floor echoed across the bay ominously. They stepped through a blast door at the far end of the hangar, and were immediately met by two people; a stout, older man in an outdated Imperial uniform, and a young woman who looked around Tahlia's age with flowing blonde hair, deep-set, dark eyes, and a remarkably cold aura about her.

"Tahlia," she acknowledged shortly.

Tahlia turned and eagerly introduced Kyp to the others. "Kyp, this is Major Yortevin, our fleet commander, and Xela, one of my… colleagues." Kyp forced a pleasant enough smile on his face as he stared at the other woman. Even if he hadn't retrieved her name from the commando who survived the raid, Jaina's description of her, thoughtfully provided by Jag with the rest of his information, would have been enough for him to know that this was the woman who had physically stolen his little girl from her bedroom in the middle of the night. "Major, Xela… this is Jedi Master Kyp Durron."

Yortevin seemed relatively disinterested as he shook Kyp's hand; Xela carried a cold, calculating expression. "Master Durron," she said. "Your reputation precedes you."

He shrugged. "I make no excuses."

"Oh, you misunderstand me," she smiled dangerously. "Your belief in a firm and proper justice for Imperial pretenders… your lack of love for the political system… you'll fit in marvelously with our little bunch."

He quirked a brow. Some twenty-odd years after the fact, he hardly saw stealing the _Sun Crusher_ and murdering millions of Imperial trainees and civilians 'firm and proper justice'… but it was just as well that Xela thought well of him for it, at the moment.

"I… eagerly await the opportunity to see your 'little bunch' in action," he smiled graciously, watching Xela's lip curl in amusement.

"You won't wait long," she turned her attention back to Tahlia. "The order has come forth; we attack in a week."

Tahlia was momentarily taken aback. "The target?"

"The crux of the Galactic Alliance navy- the Fourth Fleet." Kyp stared. That was Admiral Pellaeon's fleet, and he was a supreme tactical leader. "The attempt on the admiral's life was unsuccessful due to equal parts incompetence and… outside influence; we will attack while he is still reeling from the betrayal among his personal guards."

"When do we ship out?"

"Tomorrow," Xela shot a glance at Kyp. "Master Durron, you have a greater knowledge of Admiral Pellaeon's capabilities than any of us; perhaps you will accompany Major Yortevin to share them?"

Nodding slowly, he turned to the major. "I have never fought personally with- or against- Pellaeon, but he does certainly have a reputable leadership ability. I will do what I can to assist."

As he followed Yortevin to a conference room a few levels down, Kyp finally allowed his stomach to twist in worry. Allowing the Masters to think he had attacked an innocent Jedi was fine; she hadn't been innocent, and her knowledge had been key to locating Leyla. And even if she didn't remember, he'd had Mara's permission to alter her memories. But this… he was willingly giving information to enemy forces on how to fight against a GA fleet. That was downright treasonous.

Mind working fast, Kyp knew he'd have little time to fix this, once it was done.

Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene.

The _Millennium Falcon_ soared into orbit over Bastion, having received immediate landing clearance due to Admiral Pellaeon's intervention. Jag stared down from the co-pilot's seat over the swirling colors that spun and whirled as the sun reflected and refracted off of the planet's atmosphere.

They had received clearance to land in one of the secure hangars of the Imperial Palace, only a short journey from the library and archives where they expected they would be spending many hours over the next couple of days as they pursued first, the situation with the old code transponders, and second, the current political upheaval in the Imperial Remnant. Both long shots… but it was what they had to go on at the moment.

Behind Jag in one of the passenger chairs, Jaina gave a sudden gasp. He spun as best he could around his crash-webbing, and Han yanked so hard on the control yoke that air-control snapped at him to stay on course.

"What?" Jag demanded. "Is it Leyla?"

"No," Jaina said, looking confused more than anything. "I'm not sure what it was… something's about to change."

Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene.

A low sense of uneasiness permeated the meeting hall where several Jedi Masters and a handful of Jedi Knights were gathered. At the front of the room stood Kenth Hamner, Saba Sebatyne, Corran Horn, Kyle Katarn, and Cilghal. Luke was again present via hologram.

Jacen and Zekk stood side-by-side off to one side, curious as to the need for the sudden, emergency gathering.

"Friends," Luke held up a hand, and Jacen was impressed at the way a small, blue representation of his uncle managed to command a room from hundreds of light years away. "It is strange business that brings us together today, but it must be addressed immediately. I know many of you have felt recent disturbances in the Force…" there was a low rumble of assent in the room. "I have as well; many of the Jedi here have. There are powerful, dark forces at work in the galaxy, and many of us have sensed them.

"I received a coded transmission an hour ago with a standard Imperial encryption; it requests the Jedi to launch our fighters and join the Fourth Fleet." Jacen and Zekk eyed each other in surprise. "I was not able to trace the source of this message, and therefore must conclude that it did _not_ originate with the fleet itself, leaving us with the question of whether to acknowledge, and risk falling into a trap."

"Why would someone send an anonymous request like that?" Zekk asked skeptically.

Corran shrugged. "Someone has information that the commander finds unreliable; a spy trying to warn of a future ambush without giving themselves away; or, you know- trying to lure dozens of Jedi to their deaths."

Jacen's mouth quirked. "Ever the optimist eh, Master Horn?"

"That's CorSec for you."

"Master Skywalker," Katarn stepped forth, "I think we have an obligation to respond. Even if the source is unreliable… the kidnapping of Leyla Solo-Fel, the incident with Belotab's wife, the attempt on Admiral Pellaeon that nearly killed Jaina Solo… these are not random events. There _is_ something dark at work, and we need to meet it rather than sit in relative comfort here on Coruscant… even if the only way to find it is by walking straight into a trap."

Saba sassed in agreement. "This one thinkz that Master Katarn iz right."

"Masters?" Luke queried. "Objections?" No one spoke. "Very well; pilots, we'll rendez-vous near Obroa-Skai in four days time. I'll send coordinates to Master Sebatyne when we launch from Ossus. May the Force be with us all."

As they walked slowly from the hall, Jacen looked up at Zekk. "What do you think?" he asked quietly.

The tall, dark man looked uncertain. "One of us should stay here," he said reluctantly. "We promised Jaina and Jag that we'd stay alert for any news or changes on Coruscant."

Jacen hesitated. "I'll stay," he conceded. "There should be a family member here. Besides," he grinned, "you're a better pilot."

"I wasn't going to say anything."

**End Part XI**


	13. Part 12

**Part XII**

Frustrated after the fourth or fifth attempt, Leyla vowed to give it one more attempt before going to sleep for the night. Try as she might, she was unable to fully reconstruct the scene in which her family's apartment had been attacked. Watching in horror, she was able to view that part where she woke up, confused, and her mother had been standing there, waiting, sensing a problem… the door had exploded and she had hidden, and she remembered listening, terrified, as her mother fought against an onslaught of blaster shots in the other room…

And then a new threat, and men bursting into Leyla's hiding place, grabbing her and she struggled… and then a vague glimpse of her mother coming for her but then everything got strangely fuzzy and eventually collapsed…

Frowning, she pushed backwards, knowing that there must have been something she missed. She was positive that her parents would never send her away without warning her first, and that they would have sent her with friends, people she knew well, like mommy's friend Zekk, or Kyp. They were both Jedi; why did she have to leave with some scary people who Leyla had never seen before? Xela was gone now, and Leyla was glad because the woman had frightened her on the flight here, with her dark sense and her cold, hard voice…

The voice. There was a flash of something… she focused on it. The other, memory version of her was crouched low in a closet, suddenly hearing more noise, more people were in the apartment… a faint sound rang over the blaster fire. A woman calling something…

"…_the child is in here!"_

She sat bolt upright, breathing hard, abandoning the memory. That voice…

A part of her surged with pride, knowing that she had been right- her parents would never send her away without warning, and not with scary people like Xela and that Moff man- Croyel. Another part of her though finally allowed the fear of her situation to shine through; after weeks of only guessing, she was sure now that Xela had stolen her away from her mommy and daddy and, based on the way Wrynn talked to her about ruling the galaxy when she was a lot older…

It didn't seem that they ever planned on giving her back.

The only question left was what to do about it. Undoubtedly, her family was looking for her; but it had been more than a month by now, and the worry that she constantly felt in the back of her mind suggested that maybe they weren't so sure about finding her anytime soon. A lump formed in Leyla's throat.

But she was only seven. Even if she escaped from this cold, dark, underground place where Wrynn and his apprentices lived, what could she do? She couldn't sneak into a ship, and even if she did, she certainly wouldn't be able to fly it anywhere. And who knew what the rest of the planet was like? What if no one would help her?

As quickly as she allowed the panic to overtake her, she felt it easing away and, when she concentrated a little, she could feel responding little touches of reassurance in her mind. One was from mommy and the other was stronger, but briefer… Kyp…

When he felt the answering touch from her mind, Kyp pulled away slowly, it seemed. But Leyla smiled to herself and lay back down on the bed, knowing that someone was coming to get her.

Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene.

Admiral Pellaeon strode up and down the bridge, eager to disprove the faintest hint of rumor that he was getting old, feeble, or senile, or that the attempt on his life had, in any way, dampened his spirits. It had, of course, if only because he had trusted Sergeant Husted with his life for half a decade, only to find the man willing to kill himself in the attempt to kill him.

Or… perhaps he never expected that the impromptu blast would kill his superior. Maybe it had simply been the plan, if he was discovered. He thought back to Leia Organa Solo's question, about discontent about the unification process, grasping at something in his mind… but it slipped through the cracks, and Pellaeon had to content himself with the promise to think on it more fully later.

The clang of his boots made a most reassuring sound against the metal deck plates as a flurry of commotion caught his attention from the other side of the bridge. His pace was measured and casual, but forcedly so. The entire encounter with the Solos and Fels had left him edgy, even though they had departed more some two standard weeks ago by now.

"Sir, incoming ships on vector… thirty three point nine."

"Numbers?"

The ensign looked harried. "It's… difficult to say. Small ships, snubfighters…" Pellaeon stood, peering out the viewport, gazing along the indicated vector. In seconds, he began to see the faint shimmer of craft reverting from hyperspace… and then close to thirty starfighters materialized in its place.

"Report," he snapped to the man at the controls.

"Twenty-eight Republic-design fighters, Admiral, mostly XJ X-wing craft with a few Y-wings…"

A voice cut over the relay channel, putting a quick stop to speculation. "_Right to Rule, _this is Luke Skywalker with two squadrons of Jedi fighters, please acknowledge."

Pellaeon's eyebrow shot up. He motioned the comm officer to step back, and he took up the transmission himself. "Master Skywalker, this is Admiral Pellaeon; to what do we owe the honor?"

There was a brief pause, and Skywalker's voice was characteristically unsure when he replied. "Admiral, a week ago, we received a request for the Jedi to come to the assistance of your fleet."

"Ah," Pellaeon frowned, and did not bother trying to hide the surprise in his voice. "From your sister?"

"Well… we aren't really sure. There was speculation that it might be a trap, but given the circumstances of recent events…" he trailed away.

Before further thought could be devoted to the matter, the same ensign, now sounding just shy of panicked- Pellaeon would have to speak with his superiors later- exclaimed, "New ships, Admiral, approaching from eleven point three! A _lot_ of ships."

"Saba, take your wing and break off," he heard Skywalker snap over the open channel. "Twin Suns, on me."

And what had been dark, endless space moments prior exploded in a flurry of mismatched vessels. They were mostly smaller ships, ranging from assault shuttles to blastboats to carrier ships, but there was one dreadnaught in the middle that looked to be the flagship of the approaching force.

For a moment, all was still in space, even as the _Right to Rule_'s crew hurried to battle stations… and then chaos erupted as the first starfighters, led by Luke Skywalker and Saba Sebatyne, got within range. The carrier ships dropped their cargo- a squadron of fighters each- and they swarmed to engage the Jedi point force.

"Find out who that is," Pellaeon snapped to no one in particular.

The abduction of a child, the treachery of the wife of a high state official, an assassination attempt… perhaps Jaina and Leia Solo had been right. The plots had converged to this key point and, as he saw the _Right to Rule_'s own snubfighters pouring from the lower hangar decks, Pellaeon understood.

It had begun.

Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene.

Alarms began to sound in the Imperial Library. Jag looked up and met the worried expressions on Han and Leia's faces, even as they peered up from their own computer consoles. He was vaguely aware of Threepio muttering something about looking into the mainframe and finding out what the fuss was about. Jaina didn't even flinch and just kept working. "Thoughts?" he muttered to his in-laws, who exchanged a look and shrugged.

"One of the things I've not yet had the pleasure of learning," Han said wryly, "was the Bastion alarm system. Maybe someone snuck in past security."

"Oh my!" Threepio spoke up. "It's a signal from Planetary Defense; the system is under attack!"

Now Jaina stood up, eyes flashing. "From who?"

"It seems a number of Moffs have rebelled and are seeking to reclaim the capital," Threepio said matter-of-factly, after his initial panicked outburst.

Leia frowned. "I thought Moffs only were allowed to hold small, private fleets for the security of their own sectors; certainly not forces large enough to take on Bastion."

"Maybe individually," Jag replied grimly. "But if they pooled their resources- something they've never been particularly fond of doing, given how much they each desire power and distrust each other- but if they did, they could probably mount a sizeable offense."

Threepio continued to watch the information as it poured forth from the city's main computer.

"Well, what sort of defense force does Bastion have?" Han demanded.

Jag looked around at the group. "Do you think they'd let us into the war room?"

Before he received a response, Threepio was alarmed again. "Oh dear! It seems that the Fourth Fleet just came under attack as well!"

"_What_?" Jaina was incredulous.

"Come on," Leia pulled away from the private research station the librarians had graciously allowed them. "Let's find out what's going on here."

Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene.

Jacen Solo stared at the HoloNews Network for one more torn minute before barking at the system to turn off and drawing his cloak about him.

His parents and sister were trapped on Bastion while the small but devoted bunch of ill-contented Moffs made a seemingly foolish move to capture the government- to what end? And the timing of the concurrent attack against the Fourth Fleet- chance? It seemed unlikely.

An attempt had been made against Gilad Pellaeon's life while his parents, sister, and Jag were there with him. Now the Imperial capital was laid under siege from orbit by malcontents at the same time that another fleet of unknown origins attacked the former Imperial head-of-state. So much of this seemed like the eruption of rebellion in the remnant that Jacen almost didn't adhere to the warning calls in his head. But now, as he found himself getting into his family's speeder and tearing off towards the GA executive offices, he knew that the puzzle was so much deeper, the threads weaving in the wind as he struggled to capture them and make sense of the larger picture.

Why attack the Fourth Fleet? Why not the GA military Supreme Fleet, under Sien Sovv? Why not the Second Fleet, under Wedge Antilles? Logic suggested that it was because the plot was targeted at the Remnant, and Pellaeon's status as fleet commander made it an ideal target.

Leyla's kidnapping… Belotab's wife… Kyp's sudden departure…

The seeds of discontent were being sown in more places than just the Remnant. The Jedi had been affected, and the seat of the Galactic Alliance government. And now, at a time when the Imperial capital was under attack, and one of the most beloved admirals in the GA… could it all be a smokescreen, to cover the true intent? What if the scheme was larger than that? The conspirators had already proven they could gain access in the highest levels of the Galactic Alliance, through Admiral Pellaeon's personal guard staff, through the chief of staff's wife.

Attacking Coruscant would take massive amounts of firepower, more than any rebellion that had kept completely off the radar could possibly muster. But attacking the chief-of-state himself… _that_ was a much easier task.

As he wove dangerously in and out of lanes of speeder traffic, Jacen knew that he was either about to prove instrumental to the successful continuance of the Galactic Alliance as they knew it- or was about to look like a mad conspiracy theorist.

**End Part XII**


	14. Part 13

**A/N: **Hope you all are enjoying. Just a heads up, I'm traveling tomorrow and might have sketchy internet access until Sunday, so I'm not sure whether I'll be getting new posts up until early next week. I have a stressful few days coming up though, so if you'd like to make me feel better with a review, I'd love you forever. ;-)

**Part XIII**

Leyla watched and listened when she was supposed to be meditating and blocking out all of her mental and environmental distractions. The Moff, Croyel, had been down to their hiding place early that morning, and Wrynn had seemed remarkably distracted, sending her off with Vulcor instead and going off to talk with Croyel privately. Since he had come back to the training room, he had been sitting and brooding, and Leyla wondered what had gone wrong.

Maybe her family was close to finding her. The thought made Leyla perk up slightly.

"You aren't concentrating," Vulcor gently reprimanded her. "Is something on your mind?"

"What's happening?" she asked.

He looked politely bemused. "How do you mean?"

"Wrynn looks angry and he seems… worried, I think."

"Ah," Vulcor nodded slowly. "Well, it's nothing you need to concern yourself with. It's grownup business, nothing that you would find particularly interesting or exciting."

Leyla scowled, frustration getting the better of her. "I thought I was supposed to be learning about _grownup business_," she pouted in a way that her mommy would have called immature and daddy would have sighed and given her what she wanted. "How can I learn about running the galaxy if you don't tell me what's going on?"

His expression was equal parts befuddlement, amusement, and frustration. "Well… I suppose some things you just wouldn't understand until you're older."

"Huh." She mulled that over and shrugged, abandoning the quest for information as quickly as she'd initiated it. "Vulcor," she changed the subject, "where are you from?"

A long silence greeted her query. "This is my home," he finally answered.

"But where did you come from?" she persisted.

"I-" he hesitated and shot a glance at Wrynn, but the older man didn't seem to be paying much attention. "For the first twelve years of my life, I lived on a planet called Bonadan."

"Was it nice there?"

"No," he said sharply, and then his expression softened. "It was crowded and dirty- the planet was largely ruined by mining and other industries long ago."

Leyla thought about Coruscant, having no clue as to what the planet itself had once been like. Now, the only parts of it not covered by thousands of feet of construction were the snowy areas at the poles- at least, that's how Grandpa Han and Kyp had explained it when they told the story of going turbo-skiing there. "So was my planet," she finally decided. "But to cover up the dirtiness they just kept building it up. Now most of the buildings are _thousands_ of stories tall." Vulcor looked skeptical. "Haven't you ever been to Coruscant?"

"No," he frowned. "I don't leave here often."

Her expression was one of wide-eyed curiosity. "Xela and Tahlia left," she pointed out.

"Well," he shrugged, "they're older, they've been trained here longer than I have. I'm still learning."

"How old are you?" she studied him shrewdly.

"Nineteen."

Her face fell. "Does that mean I can't leave until I'm at least _that_ old?"

Too late, movement caught her attention and she realized that Wrynn had stopped his brooding and was paying attention to the last part of their conversation. She shrank back slightly as he swept across the room and took up a seat next to them on the ground. "Come now, Leyla," he chided, tone light but eyes steely. "What a silly thing to be worried about. We've explained this to you; when it's safe for you, you'll be able to leave."

"How long until that happens?" she lifted her chin defiantly. His eyes flashed and she scooted involuntarily closer to Vulcor.

"I don't know," his tone was firmer now. "But if you stopped worrying about it and focused instead on the things we're trying to teach you, you could develop your own strengths sooner and then you wouldn't need our protection." Her soft, brown eyes met his dark ones for a moment before she sighed and looked down. "Good," he said, pleased. "Now why don't you ask Vulcor to help you with something productive, like the memory focusing you learned a few days ago, instead of asking silly questions."

He turned and left the room in a swirl of his black robes. Once the door slammed behind him, Leyla felt bitter tears form in the corners of her eyes, and she wiped at them angrily. "Hey," Vulcor touched her arm hesitantly, "don't worry about it, he's not really mad."

She hiccoughed, trying to stop a sob before it escaped her throat. "I want to go home," she whispered. "Maybe you like it here better than Bonadan, but I'm not supposed to be here at all."

Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene.

Kyp Durron stood on the bridge of the _Red Hand_, trying to mask his nervousness. The fight was closer than he would have liked after several hours, and he cringed inwardly every time a GA snubfighter disappeared into a burst of ionized gases. In all, Pellaeon's fleet was performing superiorly and overall had better technology and advanced tactics. The rebel armada, however, had strength in numbers and, even though some of the vessels weren't particularly meant to be war machines, they had enough firepower to be annoying as the GA fighters tried to get closer to the larger, more problematic ships- like the dreadnaught where Kyp observed.

Towards the beginning of the battle, the twenty-eight Jedi had opened up their collective awareness in the Force, joining together in a battle meld to give them yet another edge in the fight. That was good, it kept them safer, with twenty-seven other Jedi always aware if one was in trouble. The problem was, with that kind of collective perception, Kyp had no hope of hiding his presence.

He had felt the gentle pull as they pulled one another into the mental link. A fast attempt was made to draw his presence in as close around him as possible, but he had felt a couple of distinctive touches, followed by a vague confusion and curiosity, and then a sharp realization. The touches had recoiled as one, as the Jedi must have sensed that he was with the attacking fleet, not Pellaeon's.

Kyp would certainly have a lot of explaining to do- but not until after he had recovered his daughter. Once she was safe, he would gladly answer for everything he had done in the process of getting to her.

For now, he silently fretted that his efforts to discreetly turn the edge of the battle in favor of the Galactic Alliance had been for nothing. The Jedi squadrons were certainly a big help, but his other reassurance hadn't materialized, and he began to fear that it wouldn't. And if it didn't, his hopes of forcing a fast retreat before the _Right to Rule_ and the _Red Hand_ started hammering away at each other would be lost.

"Strange," Kyp turned and saw Xela move to stand beside him at the viewport. "These Jedi pilots of theirs… happy coincidence for the fleet? Or were they expecting us?"

"Hm," he tried to ascertain if she was suspicious or just thinking aloud. He decided that she didn't suspect him of the treachery he had quickly wrought before the armada jumped to hyperspace. "Difficult to say; the Jedi might have foreseen that their presence would be required, it wouldn't be unheard of."

Her sharp fingernails clacked against the railing as she drummed them nervously. "No," she muttered, "I think it's the fault of the Solos. They must have learned more than we suspected when they met the fleet before and called in the reinforcements."

"The Solos?" Kyp frowned.

She glanced at him sidelong before remembering. "But of course; you were meeting Tahlia. One of our men botched an assassination attempt on Pellaeon because of their interference. Nearly killed the girl, but she saved the old man's life," she said casually. 

His heart sank. "The girl? Jaina Fel?"

"Yes, her." She turned sharply. "Do you know her well?"

Mind working fast, Kyp tried to decide on the right level of half-truth here. "Not anymore. I was once good friends with her father though, when I was much younger, and she was little more than a baby."

"But she was your apprentice," Xela put in, probing for information.

He allowed a sardonic quirk to grace his features. "It didn't last. She disagreed with some of my… methods. Never quite got on after that."

"Yes," Xela murmured, turning back to the viewport, "she's a little spitfire, isn't she?"

_More than you know_, Kyp thought wryly, thinking ever so briefly on the whirlwind romance he and Jaina had shared over the couple of months that he apprenticed her. A romance that had built up his unhealthy obsession for her and led him to performing deeds that, in some ways, were darker than his Exar Kun-fueled rampage with the _Sun Crusher_.

Deeds which had led to Leyla- who Xela had stolen right in front of Jaina. The thought sobered Kyp dramatically and he focused on keeping his anger at bay.

He was soon distracted by an exclamation from the other side of the bridge.

"Sensors indicate new ships approaching!"

Heart racing, Kyp turned to the viewport, uselessly searching the vast expanses of open space. This was it… the fate of Pellaeon's fleet could very well depend on whether Kyp's gamble had paid off…

A new fleet materialized into view behind the armada, drawing shouts of confusion and dismay. Kyp smiled grimly and looked at the blonde, cold woman. "Perhaps the Solos outwitted you more than you know."

"Report!" Yortevin snapped, hurrying to join Kyp and Xela. "Who is it?"

He didn't get an answer before a barrage of laser fire smashed against their shields, rocking the ship. "That," Kyp said as he watched two ship carriers disintegrate, "is the Galactic Alliance Second Fleet, led by General Wedge Antilles." He saw the _Mon Mothma_ maneuvering, trying to best position itself to cut off an escape vector while the fleet continued to pummel the Red Hand armada. "Sir, I do not believe this is a battle you can win anymore."

Cursing, Yortevin rounded on a deck officer. "Feed the retreat coordinates to the armada. We jump on my mark."

Xela faced Kyp, stony-faced. "Be prepared," she bit. "We make a short jump and then Tahlia and I must take you to Lord Wrynn. He is eager to meet you."

Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene.

Ferrin Belotab looked up from his desk and into the anxious eyes of Jacen Solo, and he cringed inwardly. The last time he had encountered a Solo- Jacen's twin, Jaina- his entire life had turned upside down shortly thereafter. The surprise of his wife's coldhearted treachery was only marginally overshadowed by her sudden murder on the rooftop of their apartment complex. Chief-of-State Omas had urged him to take as much time from work as he needed, but Ferrin had no idea what to do with that time, and work at least kept him absurdly busy to the point of distraction.

"Jedi Solo," he forced a smile onto his face. "What can I do for you?"

The young man looked anxious. "Where is Chief Omas?"

For a moment, Ferrin's mind blanked. People didn't just demand the location of the chief-of-state. He was a busy man with many demands on his time. Then again… Jacen was a Jedi and on good terms with Omas. He supposed it wouldn't hurt anything. "Cabinet meeting," he finally managed. "They aren't due out for another…" he checked his chrono, "forty minutes."

"Great," Jacen said, "I'll find it, don't worry."

It took a minute for his mind to catch up. "Wha- wait!" he stood and hurried after the robed man, already heading for the turbolifts to take him up to the meeting room. "You can't just turn up in the middle of a meeting with all of the high ministers!"

"It's sort of important," Jacen continued walking, unfazed, and pressed the call button for the lift. "You could come with me, if you'd like."

Like he was going to let him wander the executive offices on his own. "What's so important that it can't wait forty… thirty-nine minutes?"

Once they were securely inside the turbolift, Jacen brought out a sweeper device, searching for recording and listening bugs. When it came up clean, he turned and spoke lowly to a mildly offended Ferrin. "I think someone is trying to destabilize as much of the Galactic Alliance in one fell swoop as possible. They're masking it as Imperial malcontent, but I don't buy it. I think someone is going to go after Omas next, and I'm here to make sure that doesn't happen."

"Oh," Ferrin muttered faintly as the car stopped near the top of the dizzyingly tall building. "Right."

Jacen led the way down the long corridor towards the obscenely ornate doors at the end, behind which lay the large conference room where dozens of ministers, diplomats, foreign leaders and the like could be received by the chief-of-state. He paused and reached out in the Force, counting the presences in the room before him. As his touch skimmed over the minds of the twenty-odd people, one caught his attention and he focused in on it.

Nervous and calm at the same time… counterintuitive. Or maybe… no, not calm. Accepting. Someone who sees that they're about to get shot down in a dogfight and continues on anyway, determined to see it through, to take the other guy with him

Jacen pushed through the door suddenly, catching the guards unawares. Ignoring their protests, he walked quickly into the room and scanned the table of ministers who were eyeing him in silent curiosity.

"Jacen!" Cal Omas stood in surprise. "What brings you here, my boy?" Jacen didn't respond, just continued searching, matching faces with the minds he had sensed moments prior. "Is something the matter? Have you had word from your sister?"

A spike of emotion. Jacen pinpointed it and stared at a tall, angular human man. "You," he pointed. "What's your name?"

The man sneered. Omas came around the table to lean in close to Jacen. "Jedi Solo, that's Finance Minister Losek. I suggest you state your purpose here, or I'll have to ask you to leave."

"Losek," Jacen ignored Omas and rounded the table, "let me see your case."

"Chief," the man protested in a nasally voice, "surely we can remove this whelp, we're in the middle of a meeting…"

Jacen reached out for the man's briefcase in the Force. It started to move, and Losek seized it with one arm and, with the other, drew a blaster, leveling it at Jacen, earning gasps of surprise from the rest of those present. "Leave it, boy," he hissed.

"Varn," Omas frowned, "what's going on here?"

The man smiled, a cold and deranged look that set Jacen's spine tingling. "Hand over the bag," Jacen said calmly. "Chief Omas, I recommend that you sound an evacuation for the building, priority in the top twenty levels."

"Jacen!" Omas sounded appalled. "What-"

Losek fired, and Jacen's lightsaber was up in a flash. He deflected the bolt- back into Losek's other hand, which released the briefcase. Before it could fall, Jacen grabbed it in the Force and pulled it towards himself, simultaneously yanking the blaster from the hurt man's other hand.

Jacen opened the case, and saw a mid-sized timed explosive device counting down. His stomach clenched. "Chief Omas," he said calmly. "Call the evacuation; unless you think you can summon an extraordinarily good munitions team in the next," he checked the timer again before gingerly placing the case on the table, "eight minutes and six seconds."

His words took a moment to sink in. Then, a couple of people screamed, and everyone got to their feet. "Go!" Jacen snapped. "Guards, detain this man… no you don't!" he lunged forward and seized the man who was discreetly putting something in his mouth. Jacen seized his wrist and applied pressure at an expert point, and Losek dropped the pill into Jacen's outstretched hand. "You don't get to pull that one," he snarled. "Believe me when I say that I will extract every piece of information you possess about who you're working with and what they've done with my niece- painfully, if need be." He yanked Losek's arms behind his back and pulled him to his feet, ignoring the man's cry of pain from his blaster-burnt hand.

Omas and Belotab were the only other ones left in the room, save the guards who were now placing binders on Losek's wrists. "Come on," Jacen prodded them towards the door. "There isn't time." The alarms finally kicked in. "If it blows here, it'll only take off the top of the building."

A Galactic Alliance Security transport was waiting for them when they emerged onto the roof a minute later. They quickly secured the infuriated prisoner, and two men in GAS black coveralls took off into the building.

"Wait!" Jacen called, futilely. "There isn't time," he told the squad leader earnestly. "They'll only have a few minutes once they reach the device!"

"It's their job, son."

Five minutes later, as the speeder soared through congested lanes of speeder traffic, a loud explosion rent the air. Jacen whipped around and peered out the viewport. Black smoke was pouring up into the sky above the Republic Executive Building.

**End Part XIII**

Until next time,

*~Lexi~*


	15. Part 14

**A/N**: I'm back! Thanks to my silent lurkers for being patient. :P Now, on with the good stuff… ;-)

**Part XIV**

An hour following the retreat of the rebel armada, the Jedi squadrons had split. Half docked with the _Mon Mothma_ and half with the _Right to Rule_. Shortly thereafter, Wedge Antilles shuttled over to Pellaeon's flagship and met the admiral, as well as a number of Jedi, including Luke and Mara Skywalker.

"General Antilles," Pellaeon shook his hand. "Your coming was unlooked for, but a most welcome surprise. How did you get here so fast?"

Wedge shot a bemused look at the Skywalkers. "Luke asked me to come days ago; I thought we'd be too late."

Luke and Mara exchanged glances. "No, I didn't," Luke said slowly.

The four of them stared back and forth. Pellaeon sighed and put a hand to his brow. "Maybe I _am_ getting too old for this," he muttered. "Let me see if I understand; Master Skywalker, you amassed a wing of Jedi fighter pilots when you received an anonymous, urgent request that you meet my fleet." Luke nodded. "And General Antilles, _you_ were requested by someone parading as Master Skywalker to rendez-vous with us, arriving just in time to drive the attackers into retreat?"

"In a word," Mara quirked a brow, "yes."

Wedge held up his hands defensively. "It was your recognition code," he told Luke. "Does anyone else even know the encryption?"

He shrugged. "Just Mara…" he trailed away and looked curiously at his wife. After a moment he looked back at Wedge. "Nevertheless, our benevolent source has won this one for us and, suspicion aside, they must be thanked for that."

An ensign trotted over and handed Pellaeon a datapad. He scanned it, frowned, and then read it more thoroughly. The frown deepened.

"Trouble, Admiral?" Luke asked lightly.

"In a manner of speaking," he agreed stiffly. "It seems that a number of malcontents among the Moffs have decided to stage a coup."

"A _coup_?" Wedge demanded.

He stared at the message. "Bastion is under attack by a joint force of some six or seven sector-wide defense fleets." He peered curiously at Wedge before glancing back down and reading. "It would seem that your nephew is proving instrumental in much of the coordination on the ground."

Wedge stared. "Jag is on Bastion?"

"He went with Jaina, Leia, and Han to do some research in the Imperial Library to hopefully turn up some new leads," Luke told him softly. "What do you think?" he asked Pellaeon. "Are the two attacks related?"

"Of that," Pellaeon sighed, "I have little doubt." He turned to Wedge. "General, I'd like to pull my fleet but I'm afraid some of my ships will need some time before they are back in top condition…"

"A swap then?" Wedge picked up on his line of thinking. "Tell me what you need and I'll transfer them under your command; we can stick around and oversee repairs."

"My sincere thanks," Pellaeon stood. "We jump to Bastion in two hours. Master Skywalker," he paused. "Your further assistance would be… appreciated."

"Of course," Luke looked at Mara. "We'll take half with you and leave half with General Antilles." His expression faltered and darkened for a moment. "I think it's time that Mara and I lent our assistance to Jaina and Jag as well."

Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene.

Moff Croyel stared stonily at his right-hand man who had brought a three-pronged wave of bad news all at once. "Stop," he held up a hand. "Let's go through this piece-by-piece. You're telling me, Alurin, that Pellaeon knew that the armada was coming?"

Alurin grimaced, an unusual expression of any sort from the normally stoic man. "It remains unclear. Our sources indicate that there was some initial confusion when the Jedi arrived with the Fleet, but it was only moments later that the engagement started. That _could_ have been attributed to Jedi sorcery and foresight, but the armada was routed when the Second Fleet arrived to Pellaeon's aid."

"But no indication of what tipped them off?"

"No, sir. Though the commander of the Second Fleet is a longtime friend of Luke Skywalker, back to the Rebellion days."

Croyel sighed. "Very well. And the attack on Bastion?"

"It was never meant to do more than act as a decoy, of course, but the fleets' efforts are meeting more resistance than they initially expected. Word has it that elements of the Chiss Defense Fleet have scrambled from Csilla and will arrive in-system within twenty-four hours."

The Moff frowned and considered a moment. "An odd move for the Chiss, no?" he pondered slowly. "Even with their Imperial alliance, they've never been eager to involve themselves in conflict among the Moffs."

"Ah," Alurin deadpanned, "it seems the ruse has been… revealed, at least in part. As it turns out, the prodigal child of the Chiss' human pet has been pinned down on Bastion."

Time slowed as Croyel understood his meaning. "You mean- _Fel_?"

"I would seem that the _Millennium Falcon_ headed there directly after leaving the Fourth Fleet. It bypassed our sources- we think because they were accorded a priority access clearance by Pellaeon that kept them off of the flight logs. They've been using the Imperial Library- we haven't yet learned why. In any case, given the current state of mayhem in the Solo and Fel families, it seems the Ruling Families were less than patient at any perceived further attack on Fel and his wife."

"That is… unfortunate. But ultimately it should mean little, when the time is right, the Moffs will withdraw the attacks and reinforce the armada. I'm more concerned about Losek's failure on Coruscant." He let the sentence hang like an accusation.

Alurin spoke haltingly. "You… won't like this. Not only was the planned bombing thwarted, but Losek was taken- alive."

His eyes flashed. "Oh? And just how did our greatest investment come to fail us so direly?"

"How he came to know of the plot is still… unknown. But Jacen Solo was apparently seen storming the Executive Offices just minutes before the evacuation was called. Our last word was that he evacuated on the top landing pad with Omas, his chief of staff, and Losek, under arrest."

A cold fury radiated from the Moff. "Jacen Solo," he hissed. "One of the principle reasons in staging our move _after_ taking the girl was to distract the family, who have proven themselves absurdly meddlesome for some thirty-five years now. And now, we have a three-way failure, all due to them? The Skywalkers against the armada; the elder Solos and the Fels on Bastion; the twin brother on Coruscant. We are thwarted at every turn."

"Oh," Alurin put in almost apologetically. "General Antilles leads the Second Fleet- the uncle of Jagged Fel."

He sighed heavily. "Very well; we regroup. When the Moffs withdraw from Bastion, their numbers will easily make up for ships lost. We may have to rethink our strategy with the child- or take some action against the rest of the family. What are your thoughts on the Losek situation?"

"He will be taken care of."

"See that he is," Croyel held up a warning finger. "If the Jedi are involved, it could prove more difficult that you think."

Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene.

Jaina Solo alternated between pacing restlessly and sitting and retreating into her own mind restlessly. As a colonel for the CEDF, the Imperials had welcomed Jag's assistance in coordination of defensive tactics, but Han, Leia, and Jaina simply felt out of place in the strategy room. Now, she sat in frustration in the apartment in the Imperial Palace they had been graciously offered, feeling utterly helpless. Even if she'd had her starfighter with her, it wouldn't have mattered; the planetary shield prevented ships from leaving, as well as protecting the surface from aerial bombardment.

Instead, she tried to calm herself and focus on Leyla for the umpteenth time.

Her daughter felt a certain melancholy that made Jaina's heart ache, but she was still alright. In the two months of her absence, Jaina had felt her fear and sadness, but never had the impression that she suffered physically, and she was happy for that at least. By now though, she imagined that Leyla was getting depressed about her situation; she knew her daughter was strong, but that strength would only hold for so long while she waited for someone to find her.

And in all the chaos- they really weren't any closer.

She stood up to resume pacing when she felt a familiar presence approaching. Forcing a smile, she waited for Jag to enter the room. Her parents looked up from the remote access console they'd been given into the archives when the door opened.

"How is it going?" Leia asked softly.

"They're… oddly resilient." Jag strode over and kissed Jaina on top of her head.

Han huffed. "Guess they realize that if they fail, they're charged with high treason."

Jag shook his head. "I'm not sure that's it." He took a seat on the sofa, pulling Jaina down with him. "We've just had news from Coruscant- it seems there's been an attack on the chief-of-state."

Jaina's throat tightened. "Is he dead?"

"No. During a cabinet meeting, one of the ministers- we're still trying to learn which one- brought a timed explosive. He was apprehended less than ten minutes before the explosion… by Jacen."

"_Jacen_?" Han asked, stunned. "How did that happen?"

Jag shrugged. "Your guess is as good as mine. But I guess it was a sizeable blast- destroyed the top five stories of the Republic Executive Building completely, did significant damage to another seven, not to mention the collateral damage to adjacent buildings. Preliminary reports are estimating around fifty or one hundred dead with another several hundred injured. They were able to get the majority on the upper levels either out or down onto lower floors where they were safe."

Leia frowned. "What about the bomber?"

"We think they took him alive."

Jaina sat up abruptly. "This could be our big breakthrough," her wide, hopeful eyes stared up at Jag. He held up a hand.

"There's more," he said slowly, choosing his words carefully. "The situation with Admiral Pellaeon's fleet is over; apparently Wedge arrived, unlooked for, and drove the attackers back. In the report we just received on the engagement, however…" his eyes shifted and he didn't meet their gazes. "They've upped the interest in Jedi Master Kyp Durron due to suspicion of… treason."

Han coughed and spluttered. Jaina pursed her lips, knowing that, if ever there was a place to worry about eavesdropping, this was it.

"Why?" Leia asked calmly, though her eyes had darkened a fraction.

"Apparently the Jedi who came to the admiral's defense could sense him aboard the enemy's flagship."

Jaina could almost scream. There was so much they needed to talk about, but just couldn't. Not while Kyp was out there looking for Leyla. Finally, she forced calm into her voice and said, "That's certainly a blow for the Jedi order, that someone like Master Durron could be a traitor after all this time."

But her family read the worry in her eyes, and she knew that they all wondered as much as she did- just what had Kyp gotten himself in to?

Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene.

Kyp stared dispassionately out the viewport as the planet of Gree Baaker grew ever larger and dominated the view. It was a perfect place to base a top secret operation because no one would ever travel there for recreational purposes in a millennia. It was barren and dull, and its only galactic notoriety in the past half-century was that its labor camps during the height of the Empire had supplied many of the workers to build the first Death Star. The camps had since been shut down and vast expanses of the planet were empty and littered with the remnants of them. Cities were few and far between, and sparsely populated.

And right in the middle of the nothingness, far away from prying eyes in any direction, was a Moff's special, private outpost- supposedly for overseeing cleanup of the old bases. By the looks of things, however, little progress had been made on that front and, as the small and fast assault shuttled skimmed over the depressing landscape, Kyp saw nests resting in the ruins of destroyed blockhouses, wild plant life covering old work fields… he wondered what this Moff Croyel would ever tell anyone who came around asking about what he needed his outpost here for.

Then again- Croyel had obviously demonstrated a clear ability to influence government at its highest levels. Kyp would have bet a substantial sum that this little structure didn't exist on any public manifests of his properties.

As they set down in the small, heavily camouflaged hangar bay, Kyp allowed a brief probe of his surroundings while Xela and Tahlia were distracted with the landing sequence. Only two presences stuck out to him inside the building directly adjacent the hangar, and he frowned. This Wrynn character was here, and surely he had Leyla… but his daughter was certainly not among the two whom he had sensed. Kyp allowed himself the briefest pang of worry, thinking he might have miscalculated, or that he was, perhaps, being played. Had one of the women somehow discovered the two low-beam transmissions he had sent from a randomly selected shuttle in the _Red Hand_ hangar bay? He didn't know- he didn't sense a trap anyway- but now seemed a poor time to play the odds.

Xela exited the ship first, and Tahlia motioned him to follow. She locked the controls on the landing ramp behind them as she came down last- a fact that Kyp noted, along with the models of the few other ships already resting on the pad.

Inside, Xela marched them straight to an office where a middle-aged, blustering sort of a man was skimming datapads and muttering to himself, seeming generally discontent. He looked up and gave a forced smile upon their entrance, however. "Ah, excellent," he stood. "You are expected below immediately."

_Below?_

"Problems?" Xela snapped.

"Besides your failure against Pellaeon's fleet?" the man asked wryly. "The Chiss are routing the forces at Bastion, they'll be forced to withdraw soon, and… the bombing on Coruscant was foiled. Our man was taken alive."

Xela radiated anger, Tahlia seemed worried. The man- Croyel himself, Kyp decided- looked him over. "You must be Master Durron," it wasn't a question. "I'm glad to have you. We could use your help at this juncture."

"Understood."

Without further comment, they were led to a hidden panel, where Croyel keyed in a pass code- the wall opened, revealing a hidden corridor that was plain and undecorated, and ended in a turbolift. Another code gained them access and, as Kyp stepped inside, he understood what he meant by 'below.'

There was only one button in the lift car. As the doors slid closed, Kyp extended his awareness downwards, rather than out, searching deep beneath him, and finding a sudden burst of brighter presences, clearly people trained in the Force…

And there, still strong yet scared, radiating a bright point in the Force…

Leyla.

**End Part XIV**


	16. Part 15

**Part XV**

After four days, Jacen accepted the GAS interrogators' assertions that Varn Losek knew nothing about Leyla's whereabouts with a bitter disappointment. Offsetting that though, was a list of three contacts and a computer that Zakarisz Ghent was already slicing into and, assuming his hunch was correct that all of these events were intertwined, hopefully something, somewhere, would get him the information he so desperately wanted.

Anything to see his twin happy again and to bring her family back together.

Speaking of whom… he had finally managed to contact his family on Bastion, who assured him that they were all fine, but making little of their hoped-for progress. They were anxious to hear of the results of Ghent's search, however, and his father assured him that, if he got any substantial leads, they would blast their way through the attackers, sabotaging the planetary defense shield beforehand if need be in order to get off the planet, and get to wherever they needed to go.

Jag had, in turn, assured him that Han would _not _be starting another galactic civil war, and that his father was in charge of the CEDF fleet which had arrived a couple of days prior in-system, and would assist their endeavors whenever they needed to leave.

Jacen didn't understand why the attacking forces continued to hold out, when they clearly were not in a position to win. For now, he assumed that he would learn the answer in due course, and that the answer was likely to be as alarming as possible.

His thoughts were interrupted by the beep of his comlink. "Solo," he answered in a clipped tone.

"_Jedi Solo, this is Lieutenant Shevu of CFS_."

"What can I do for you, Lieutenant?"

"_Minister Losek is dead."_

He froze, forgetting what he was doing at the console where he sat running names. "How?" he finally choked. "No one should have been allowed in his cell except…" he trailed off, shaking his head. Of course, the Coruscant Security Force would be compromised; everywhere else was. "Never mind," he stood. "I'll be at headquarters in fifteen minutes. Lieutenant, I want you to stay within five meters of Ghent until I get there. He'll be next."

"_Copy. Shevu out_."

Jacen grimaced and hurried to his speeder. If this Shevu character wasn't to be trusted either, than their best hope would be gone long before he arrived.

Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene.

Leyla sat on her bed, little arms crossed, bored. Without explanation, Wrynn had told Vulcor to return her to her room for the rest of the day, and the young man had done so with a mild amount of confusion. Leyla wondered if she was being punished for her questioning of Vulcor about leaving the safe house when she was older, but it had been a few days since, so she wasn't really sure. In either case, she didn't particularly mind, even though she was bored and lonely; Wrynn had mentioned Xela returning, and Leyla would be all the happier to not see the frightening woman.

Sighing, she contented herself with a game Wrynn had provided, where she was supposed to use the Force to maneuver pieces together, connecting them in specific ways to create shapes or images. It was tricky because she had to focus on rotating the pieces in very particular movements so that the magnetic strips would activate and hold them together.

Despite her vow to use the Force as little as possible for Wrynn, she supposed this was better than nothing, in the absence of anyone to talk to.

She was so focused, she almost missed the brief sensation an hour or so later, that some people were walking down the corridor past her room. When she did notice, she dropped her piece, abandoning the half-completed X-wing shape, and concentrated on seeing who was outside her room.

First, she noticed, cringing, that Xela was there. Her cold aura made Leyla shiver unconsciously, and she quickly moved on. Another familiar presence… one of the apprentices Leyla did not know so well, she thought; a smaller presence, not trained in the Force, angry and focused… that was the Moff, she was pretty sure.

But then, the fourth presence… confusion made her frown, but her heart started beating faster as she realized…

Kyp.

He was here. He had come for her.

She fought to keep her excitement from spilling over too wildly and alerting Vulcor or Wrynn. Instead, she calmed down and focused on the light, reassuring touch that Kyp gently brushed over her before he pulled back, and she thought she understood a warning, not to say anything, that he would come for her later…

Grinning from ear-to-ear, she settled back down on the floor and forced herself to continue with her silly game. Logically, she assumed that Kyp would take her away when everyone else was asleep, which meant she had several hours to wait. But that was fine.

She had been patient this long; she could wait just a bit more.

Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene.

Wedge Antilles sat in his most secure briefing room with his impromptu war council, consisting of Jedi Masters Kenth Hamner and Saba Sebatyne, the Jedi Knight Zekk, the _Mon Mothma_'s commander, a Sullustan and nephew to Sien Sovv, Captain Luen Bimb, and his own personal aide, Lieutenant Drixl. In other words, people Wedge knew well and had worked with before; people with whom he'd trust his life- whatever that was worth after the attempt on Gilad Pellaeon's life a few weeks prior.

The fourteen Jedi left with the Second Fleet has divided again, eight of them returning to Coruscant in light of the bombing which Jacen Solo had thwarted. Of the six remaining, Wedge knew only three personally, and he wasn't taking any chances. With a half dozen Moffs in open rebellion, Pellaeon's personal guards attacking him, and the Minister of Finance attempting to blow up the entire high government of the Galactic Alliance… and there was still one more disturbing development…

"Fill me in on the Kyp Durron situation," Wedge sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

Hamner shrugged, sighing heavily. "We really only know what you probably know by now. Kyp attacked a Jedi in the temple and fled; we think he confronted and memory-rubbed Mara Jade Skywalker several days beforehand. He disappeared, completely fell off of our radar for days, and then turns up here." He paused. "There's been… I'm sorry, it's not a view that was generally supported by the Masters. But Corran Horn put forth a theory that he may have taken part in your great-niece's kidnapping."

Wedge's eyes flashed, but Zekk beat him to the punch. "I don't believe that," he murmured lowly. "At least I won't until I have any proof of it. Durron is many things, but…" he looked uncomfortable. "He truly cared for Jaina once; I just don't see him putting her through this."

"He lost the girl though," Wedge pointed out stiffly. "Resentment can be a lasting and dangerous thing. And I don't know that I'd say he 'truly cared' about her. I was there, I watched him manipulate her until she was eating out of the palm of his hand, until she snapped and smacked him across the face for lying to her. He was protective and possessive, not a man in love. And then she married someone else, had their child, and maybe for him, Leyla represents what he didn't get."

"It was years ago though," Zekk countered. "And he changed."

"Not enough, apparently," Wedge responded hotly.

"Either way," Hamner stepped in, "he seems to be involved in whatever this is, and given the impressive execution of recent events, they seem to have been a long time in planning. Now Kyp has been put on a military watch-list, and as far as I see it, the best we can hope is that someone spots him and he leads us to uncovering more of the plot and its conspirators."

Wedge sighed resignedly. "I guess that's the best we can hope for, for now. But let me say this- if I _do_ learn that Kyp Durron had anything to do with Leyla's abduction, I will stake the rest of my career on seeing him convicted of high treason against the GA government and its military."

Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene.

Jag Fel trekked wearily back to the suite the palace had offered them. It was late by local standard times, but it hardly mattered; his entire sense of time was so completely skewed by spending more than a week in space, and now by being up practically around the clock while the renegade fleets held up doggedly against the planet's defense force. Their numbers had proven daunting at first, until the Chiss arrived and evened the score.

The arrival of the Fourth Fleet just a couple of hours prior, however, had finally driven the attackers back. The CEDF and GA forces were taking the lead in the mop-up and, by morning, would hopefully have prisoners who could provide some further information on the origin of the attack. And of course, the relationship between this attack and that against the Fourth Fleet… and the bombing on Coruscant… the bomb on the _Right to Rule_… and, if they were lucky… Leyla.

He slipped quietly inside the living room, only to find that Han and Leia were still awake, sitting there watching the HoloNet News.

"Hey," Leia said softly. "Is it over?"

"Yes," he sat stiffly on a chair opposite them. "Admiral Pellaeon routed them."

"Prisoners?" Han asked gruffly.

He nodded. "They managed to disable a few ships just before the retreat, the bigger carriers didn't have time to set up tows. We'll know more by morning, but I'm ready to fall asleep standing at this point."

Leia smiled. "Of course. Don't let us keep you. Jaina turned in a couple of hours ago," she nodded back towards one of the bedroom doors.

"How…" he hesitated. "How is she? I haven't been around enough in the last few days…"

"She understands; she's fine," Leia assured him. Nodding his thanks, he dragged himself back to his feet and disappeared into the darkened bedroom.

Quietly as possible, he undressed, gently laying his folded garments over the back of a chair; Jaina would make fun of him later, but he didn't want to wake her by rummaging around in the small closet. Down to his sleep shorts, he slid into the bed behind Jaina and threw an arm around her bare midriff, nuzzling against her neck and pulling her tight against him.

Their relationship had been… distant, since Leyla had gone missing. He wasn't bitter, he understood, but sometimes, he felt like he was missing both of them while Jaina remained cold, focused alternately on researching possible leads and retreating into her own mind to touch her connection to Leyla, a connection that Jag would never have with either of them, regardless how much he loved them.

He was slowly drifting to sleep when a movement from Jaina caught his attention and jolted him back into alertness. She pulled away slightly and her breath hitched. Jag propped himself up on an elbow and reached out a hand to rub her back. "You alright?" he murmured tiredly.

"I… yes." She was surprisingly awake all of a sudden. "Yes. Leyla's… happy."

He stared at her. And then he understood what she was saying without actually speaking the words, and he grinned, leaned down, and kissed her full on the mouth.

And for the first time in some two months, she responded whole-heartedly.

Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene.

"I'll be honest with you, Master Durron, it was quite the pleasant surprise learning that you had been our information source among the Jedi all this time. Someone of your standing and knowledge… I confess that there must be a great many things that you can teach _me_, as well as my apprentices."

He forced a smile. "You're too modest, Lord Wrynn."

"No, no," the dark man waved his comment aside. "It is true that my ascension to power was due to my superior strength and cunning, but my only true master was the emperor, and his training was… minimalist." He paused and looked at Kyp curiously. "But you knew Niwali?"

He nodded. "Only briefly. We met while I was traveling the Wild Regions, years before the latest war. She recruited me then, shortly before she died."

"She was a good woman, a good friend," Wrynn acknowledged, and Kyp smiled, hoping that the man didn't feel the need to talk about her at length- there was only so much he had learned from Brionia's memories. "But for now, more serious business. Xela, Tahlia- tell me about the attack?"

While the two women spoke, Kyp took the time to probe his surroundings. Aside from the two women, the Moff, and Wrynn, he sensed two other presences besides Leyla. That wasn't to say that more wouldn't come and go, but for now, he thought grimly, it shouldn't be too terribly hard to sneak the girl away. He hadn't yet ascertained whether she had anyone else with her personally, but the place was secure enough that they probably were confident that a seven-year-old girl couldn't get away on her own.

He looked up at Croyel when he responded to Xela and Tahlia. "Despite our setbacks, we are by no means to be discouraged. We just received word that my fellow Moffs, the fools that they are, have withdrawn from Bastion following the arrival of Pellaeon's fleet. They will join the armada, augment their numbers, provide extra materiel to speed repairs for the damaged ships… within a month, the joint force should have enough firepower to launch a successful attack."

"Against what?" Kyp couldn't stop himself from asking.

Croyel frowned. "Against Coruscant, of course." He read the incredulity in the younger man's face. "It may seem presumptuous, given the failures you have just witnessed," he said coldly, "but rest assured, we have already accomplished much towards our ends of shaking the foundations of this heathen alliance. When the time is right, we will activate the rest of our agents and watch the galaxy rent itself open, and we will be there to recover the pieces and set it straight again, as it was intended. And you, Master Durron," his smile was thin, eyes sharp, "are going to prove most instrumental to our future efforts."

Kyp quirked a brow.

"What he means," Wrynn said almost apologetically, shooting Croyel a look, "is that your expertise on the matters of the Jedi are unparalleled amongst us, and they are likely to prove the largest hindrance to our cause. Now ideally," he looked wistful, "we could harness their strengths for the good of our new empire, but I imagine that some might be expected to be difficult…"

"A reasonable expectation," Kyp replied wryly.

"Yes, well, some of them will have to be eliminated, clearly," Croyel put in off-handedly. "The Solos and their extended family are proving too dangerous. We should have killed Jaina and Jagged Fel when we had the chance."

Wrynn held up a hand. "Now now, my dear Moff, don't forget- we still hold the ultimate bargaining chip against them. Besides," he smiled, "perhaps they will see things differently when they understand the child's destiny."

Kyp just stared, confused, not daring to seek clarification on the matter. Regardless, it became clear that he needed to act quickly and get Leyla out of there- tonight. Otherwise, the fate of the Galactic Alliance could very well rest on his shoulders if they didn't uncover this plot on their own, and soon.

**End Part XV**


	17. Part 16

**Part XVI**

As he exited the turbolift and stepped into the hallway off of which Ghent had set up in a private room with Losek's computer files, Jacen's heart sank.

The corridor was darkened, lit only by emergency lighting. Since the turbolift had functioned fine, Jacen was forced to assume that someone with easy access had cut the power to the floor specifically- possibly and probably the same person who had killed Losek in his heavily guarded cell. This way, there were no alarms, and the average person probably assumed a routine maintenance malfunction was to blame.

Unlit lightsaber in hand, he crept down the hallway towards the door where he had left Ghent earlier that same day. Reaching out in the Force, he sensed no presences behind the closed door, and palmed the release pad. The door slid open and Jacen ducked inside, cringing against acrid fumes of burning circuits. He stared stonily- the computer and the access console through which Ghent had attempted to access the files were both smoking.

Ghent was nowhere to be seen, nor Shevu. He wondered if Shevu had been playing him after all, perhaps attempting to lure him into a trap…

Sensing nothing out of the ordinary, Jacen cautiously returned to the hallway. There were a half-dozen doors on each side of the corridor, some of them perhaps opening into new hallways and stairwells, accessing other parts of the CSF headquarters. It would be too much to investigate on his own, but he daren't trust anyone else within Coruscanti security. He could call for Jedi backup, but most of them were gone, attached to the Second and Fourth Fleets, save the eight who were returning to keep an eye on Omas per Jacen's request.

A movement caught his attention, and the sound of a door sliding open slightly. He whirled, igniting his lightsaber, but no attack came. After a few seconds, a low voice hissed, "Solo! Down here."

He cautiously approached and slipped through the indicated door, coming face to face with a young CSF guard whose name tape read 'Lt. Lon Shevu' and a nervous-looking Zakarisz Ghent. "What happened?"

Shevu was grim. "It seemed safest to abandon the computer. Good thing, too- one of our own people showed up just after we slipped away and blew the thing. I think he thought we'd retreat to another level, rather than stick around here, we've been waiting for you now instead. What do you want to do?"

Jacen grimaced. This wasn't really his area. "Have we lost everything from Losek's computer then?" he asked while trying to think about how to proceed.

"Oh, no," Ghent assured him, much to Jacen's surprise. He held out a datacard. "I copied everything onto here, right before the power blew too."

"You sliced it already?" Jacen asked, shocked at the man's efficiency.

Ghent shrugged. "It was a similar setup to the one I did for your sister." Jacen refrained from pointing out that this was for Jaina as much as the other one; Ghent had always been a little… out of the loop of the greater galactic goings-on.

Jacen looked unsurely between the two men. "We let it go," he finally decided. "We have what we want, and the other man thinks he succeeded. Therefore, he believes his job is done and will report to his superiors, which will give us the element of surprise when we sift through the data on that card."

"Mr. Ghent won't be safe," Shevu warned. "They'll still want to take him out, just in case."

"I can hide him," Jacen assured the other man, reluctant to say where in case they were being listened in on. He would take Ghent to the Jedi temple, sequester him in a room deep inside the stone walls, set him a personal guard, and get him anything he needed in order to pry as much data from Losek's computer files as possible.

Finally- progress.

Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene.

Jaina, Han, and Leia joined Jag as he made his way to the conference room for a briefing with the chief Bastion defense coordinators, his father, retired general Soontir Fel, and Admiral Pellaeon, the latter two of whom had shuttled down only an hour prior from their respective vessels in orbit.

Jag and Soontir nodded to each other in greeting, too professional to publically display any joy they felt over seeing one another for the first time in more than a year. Hands were shaken all around, introductions were made, but Jaina was impatient to get to the part about what had transpired since the fleet had fled several hours earlier.

"A pleasure to see you again so soon, Admiral," Jag shook Pellaeon's hand, "though I wish the circumstances might have been different in either case."

"As do I," the aged man sat and the others followed, respectful of his superior rank. "I can only hope that we are a step closer to resolving _all_ of the matters at hand," his gaze flickered over Jaina before returning to Jag, and she nodded gratefully. "As it stands, we have taken close to one hundred prisoners from damaged and stranded vessels; most have surrendered without confrontation."

One of the majors from Bastion spoke up. "I don't suppose we have any of our traitorous Moffs in that number?" he asked skeptically.

"No," Pellaeon grimaced wryly. "No, they are far too wily for that. Nevertheless, there is likely some pertinent information to be obtained, if not from the crews themselves, who were undoubtedly following vague orders, than from the ships' computers."

"Yeah, well," Jag looked bitter, "we tried that once, Admiral and lost two men in the explosion for our efforts. Your men will certainly need explosive experts on hand."

"I don't know about that," Jaina spoke softly. All eyes swung to her and she went slightly pink. "What I mean to say is… the admiral is right, surely these ships were just following orders, these aren't like the people who were willing to die to protect their secrets; they wouldn't have surrendered, if that were the case. If there is a connection here to the attack on your fleet, Admiral, to the Coruscant bombing…" she trailed away, and everyone read the missing _to my daughter's disappearance_. "If there _is_ a connection to be found, it's bound to be a subtler one- a constant contact, a rendez-vous point… something that will pinpoint a mastermind behind the whole thing, because if they _are_ related, than the Moffs are just pawns in a game."

Soontir regarded his daughter-in-law thoughtfully. "That's an astute analysis," he said approvingly.

"Really, Jacen was the one who realized," she conceded softly. "He was the one who realized that the attack on Bastion was a diversion, to make the galaxy think this whole scheme was geared towards the Remnant, rather than the entire Galactic Alliance."

"Yes," Pellaeon murmured, "And the Alliance owes quite the debt to your brother for his deductions. Now it is time to do our part. Leia, Captain Solo," he turned to them suddenly, "Master Skywalker suggests that you might send along your protocol droid so that he could assist his astromech counterpart in analyzing the data we pull from the captured ships faster."

They exchanged a quick look. "Of course," Leia nodded. "In fact, we can just bring him ourselves. I think we're done on Bastion."

"Did your search prove fruitful?"

She sighed and shook her head ruefully. "Not unless anything Threepio registered has any interesting cross-matches in what we find later. But we thank you for your assistance, Admiral."

As the meeting progressed, Jaina was anxious to be on their way, sure that they were closer than ever to getting to the bottom of this. And deep in her mind, she was still aware of Leyla's pent up excitement and eagerness, and she hoped that she was right in her guess of why…

Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene.

In the dead of night, Kyp tapped softly on a cool, metal door and waited, using the Force to lightly nudge the sleeping occupant awake as he knocked. Several seconds passed, indicating that said person was making themselves presentable… and then with a whoosh, the door slid open, revealing Tahlia in a plain, black robe, an odd contrast to the flightsuit and cloak in which he had seen her until now.

"Master Durron?" she asked, confused and tired, but eyes brightening slightly in a way that made Kyp regret ever more what he was about to do.

"Tahlia," he murmured lowly, "I wonder if I might have a word?"

She looked momentarily taken aback, before she blinked and said, "Of course. Come in."

He did so. Her small quarters were barren, almost as much as his own that he had just taken up. "What can I do for you, Master Durron?"

"I'm going to need to know the access code to the turbolift and the passkey to gain entrance to the shuttle we came in on."

A full ten seconds of silence hung heavy between them. "Why?" she finally managed. "Is something wrong? Do you need to leave?"

"Yes," he smiled wryly, "something like that."

"I…" she hesitated. "I shouldn't. Not without speaking with Lord Wrynn first."

He sighed. "I was afraid you'd say that. Tahlia, relax."

Before she could say another word, she was unconscious. Kyp took the pertinent information regarding the turbolift, the shuttle, and Leyla's own room, and used the Force to place the limp woman on her bed. He didn't bother erasing her memories of the encounter with him; there was no point. They would know soon enough anyway.

Checking for anyone else in the hallway, he found it empty; in fact, aside from Leyla, who he had nudged awake ten minutes prior, he sensed no other wakeful beings in the place. Nevertheless, he exercised caution as he exited Tahlia's room and pressed the release to close the door once more. Stepping softly down the corridor, he came to another room, just one in a set of identical doors that hid all of the sleeping residences of this underground stronghold.

He pressed in the code, knowing that this would be the moment for an alarm to sound, if Tahlia's memories had been inaccurate. For an instant, he held his breath… and then the door hissed and slid open, and Kyp stepped into the brightly lit room, closing the door behind him…

…and was almost bowled over by Leyla as she barreled into him, short arms partially encircling his waist, burying her face in his robes. "You came for me," she half-sobbed, half-laughed. "I knew it, I knew you'd come, Kyp!"

He smiled in relief as he reached down and picked up her, studying her infectiously happy expression. "Of course I did, sweetheart," he hugged her close to him before setting her back down and dropping to a knee to meet her at eye level. "How are you? Are you ready to go? We have to hurry."

Her expression of incredulity was entirely her mother. "Let's go," she said definitively, grabbing a small bag with an extra couple sets of clothes. He was impressed with her planning and organization; then again, he supposed she'd been waiting around all day for him, since she first sensed his presence.

"Hold on," he smiled at her, "I want to tell you a couple of things first. We're going to go upstairs and take a ship. I don't think anyone else is awake, but if anyone comes after us and I have to fight them, you stay behind me, okay? And if I tell you to run, you do that." She nodded gravely. "Good girl," he hugged her again. "Alright…" he stood and reached out, sensing… "let's go."

He held her hand as they crept quietly towards the lift. Suddenly, he sensed a presence becoming more alert, awakening, and he sped up their pace. Leyla asked no questions, attuned to his urgency, and quietly waited as the turbolift car opened in ominous silence. They stepped in, and Kyp did not hesitate to press the single button that sent them careening back to the planet's surface. Leyla giggled once at the sensation, and then they were arriving.

The sensations of the various unfamiliar minds deep beneath him became difficult to read from the distance, but Kyp assumed the worst, and hurried her out of the turbolift and down the hidden corridor, pressing the release that slid open the hidden panel, hiding the entrance to the safe house.

As they exited the corridor, Kyp heard a sound indicating that the car had been recalled back to the lower level. Cursing softly, knowing that they were discovered, he pressed onward.

He sensed a guard at the door of the covered hangar. Pressing a finger to his lips, he released Leyla's hand and drew his blaster, setting for stun. "Stay here," he mouthed at her, and crept around the corner.

The guard never saw the shot coming. Motioning Leyla forward, he pulled her along again into the hangar bay, instantly relieved to see the same shuttle on which he had arrived still sitting, undisturbed. He opened the control panel beside the ramp and pressed in the key code. As he finished the sequence, he felt a presence approaching at a run. With a hiss, the ramp began to lower; at the same moment, a young man came careening into the hangar.

"Go inside," he barked at Leyla. She went a few steps up the ramp but stopped there.

Kyp drew his lightsaber. The man stopped short. He was young, no more than early twenties, Kyp guessed.

"Let the girl go, Master Durron," he ordered shakily. "She's of no interest to you."

It was almost funny. Almost. "And she's of interest to you?" he asked mildly.

"I'm her ward," the man said, growing slightly more confident. "Lord Wrynn charged me with her safety."

"Safety," Kyp bit, "would have been leaving her alone in the first place. She belongs with her parents; I'm going to take her to them."

The man looked unsure. "You… you are?" he asked in confusion.

"Vulcor." Both men looked in surprise at the girl who had descended the ramp unnoticed to come stand beside Kyp. "Vulcor, please. I told you- I don't belong here. Maybe you do, but they stole me from my home, and I want to go back."

Vulcor took a step forward. "Leyla, I understand, I really do, but I don't think you should trust him. If he's one of us, then…"

"I'm not one of you," Kyp snapped. "I never was."

"You… but why… this whole thing was about her?" he stared incredulously as Leyla stepped closer to Kyp and grabbed a fistful of his robe in her nervous hands.

"Kyp's my friend," she said softly, adamantly. "And he's going to take me home now. Goodbye, Vulcor."

Kyp regarded the young man piteously. He had a good heart, not yet twisted by the manipulations of Wrynn and Croyel. "Come with us," he offered. Vulcor started and looked at him, unsure. "There's nothing for you here; you aren't like them."

"I… can't." Vulcor smiled sadly. "Go then. Get her back to her family. The alarms will sound as soon as you leave the hangar though, all departures have to be preapproved by Moff Croyel or Lord Wrynn."

"How long does it take for the blast doors to close?"

"Thirty seconds. Why?"

Kyp looked at him wistfully, wondering if the young man would survive this failure. "Sound the alarm as soon as we lift off; tell them you got here just barely too late to apprehend us." Vulcor nodded slowly, and Kyp knew that he understood that his own life was very possibly forfeit by letting them go and refusing to join. "May the Force be with you, Vulcor."

"And… with you," he replied unsurely. "Goodbye, Leyla," he smiled at the girl who gave a small wave before allowing Kyp to nudge her up the ramp of the shuttle.

True to his word, Vulcor did not sound the alarm until the ship was rising off of the landing pad, giving them plenty of time to edge through the blast doors before they fully closed. Soon, they were rising through the atmosphere of Gree Baaker, and they had almost made low orbit before the sensors even picked up other ships approaching from the planet. The jump to lightspeed was calculated long before any of them got remotely within range.

Nevertheless, Kyp let out a long sigh of relief when he pulled back the levers and the stars streaked into lines, vaulting them away from Gree Baaker and Red Hand. For now… they were safe.

He turned and saw Leyla yawning in the co-pilot's seat, little legs sticking straight out from the edge of the chair. "You tired?" he asked softly.

She nodded, but made no move to get up and retire to the cabin. Kyp watched her, sensing her emotions roiling, and realized a moment before it happened that she needed to vent her pent up fear and sadness. She started crying and he picked her up, cradling her in his lap as he had done when she was much younger and smaller, rubbing her back in soothing circles and hugging her tight against him.

"It's alright now," he whispered. "Let it out. I promise you, they'll never touch you again."

For a long time, he held her like that while she sobbed and sniffled, wetting the front of his robes with her tears as she buried her face against him. He stroked her dark hair until she fell asleep, and then he carried her into the cabin and laid her gently down on a lower bunk, covering her with a thick blanket.

He sat on the bed opposite her, unwilling to let her out of his site while he pondered his next move.

They couldn't go to Coruscant; he knew now that Jaina and Jag had gone with Han and Leia to Bastion, and he _certainly_ couldn't take Leyla there. Jacen was the only family left on Coruscant, and he was busy foiling bombings and probably investigating them now- not to mention that he'd have as much luck landing on Coruscant right now as a tauntaun would surviving a wampa attack. That had really left him with one move, if he hoped to get Leyla to someone who was family, and who Kyp knew would protect her fiercely.

The Fourth Fleet had suffered heavy damages in the engagement against the Red Hand armada. Croyel had revealed though, that Pellaeon had taken his fleet to Bastion to handle the Moffs. That meant that Wedge must have remained behind to oversee repairs of Pellaeon's ships and, hopefully, the damage was bad enough to keep them there another few days.

They had just over two days to be in hyperspace and, when they reverted, Kyp had to figure out how to ensure that first of all, his passenger remained a closely guarded secret and, second of all, that Wedge Antilles not blow him out of the sky on the spot.

**End Part XVI**


	18. Part 17

**Part XVII**

"Mistress Leia! Master Luke!" Threepio summoned them to the console where he and Artoo were hooked up, sifting through seemingly endless data of flight logs and transmission signals compiled from the captured ships. "There seems be a consistency in a particular communication between these ships and the governor's palace on Generis."

"Generis," Luke murmured, frowning. "That's the capital of the Atrivis Sector."

Leia scanned the signals and the list of captured ships and their fleets of origination. "We didn't capture any of theirs," she speculated in mild disappointment. "I suppose it could be something, but likely as not it was just a mustering point for them."

The GA Intelligence agent overseeing the process frowned and stepped over to them. "You said Generis?"

"Oh, yes sir," Threepio said excitedly. "It seems that all of these ships have had communications with the governor's residence on…" he stopped when Luke held up his hand, shaking his head.

The agent shook his head. "The Atrivis Sector belongs to Moff Qadrik Croyel; he wasn't represented in this skirmish."

"You're sure?" Leia asked, pondering the implications of that. "What do we know about this Croyel man?"

Artoo was already pulling up the relevant information. Threepio's optical sensors flickered as he perused the file himself. "Moff Croyel has been Moff of the Atrivis Sector for just over fifteen standard years, following the… oh my- the suspicious death of his predecessor and mentor, who was assassinated in his sleep."

"Hardly unusual among this crowd," the agent huffed.

"He seems to be among the more mild-mannered Moffs," Threepio continued, "not among the usual chaos-mongering sorts… keeps to his own governate's business without frequently concerning himself in the galaxy at large. Though his capital was largely destroyed by the Yuuzhan Vong, so much of his time has been expended in the past five years simply rebuilding."

Luke grimaced. "Uh huh," he muttered. "In other words, an ideal Moff. A little too ideal, hm?"

"Oh, I don't know about that, Master Luke, my programming does not recognize such a concept as 'too good'…"

"Shut up, Threepio," Jaina and Mara approached, noticing the commotion. "Did we find something?"

Luke glanced at Leia. "Maybe," he responded tentatively. "A link to a Moff who was not actually involved in the rebellion against Bastion. It might not mean anything though, he could have been a funding source, or a sympathizer…"

"Or the mastermind of this whole thing," Jaina put in coolly. "Who is it?"

"Qadrik Croyel of the Atrivis Sector," Threepio put in helpfully.

Luke considered something. "And who was his predecessor?"

"Yarden Morgny."

"Mara," Luke looked at his wife sidelong, "what do you know about him?"

She frowned. "About who?"

"Morgny."

Her frown deepened. "Nothing."

"Ah," Luke looked mildly surprised and turned back to Threepio. "How long was Morgny a Moff?"

"Oh, ah… thirty-five standard years."

"That's impossible," Mara cut in, "if he'd been a Moff…" she trailed away and met Luke's eyes. An unspoken communication passed between them.

Luke straightened. "I think Croyel's our man."

"Wait- what?" the agent who had been assisting them was blindsided. "How do you get there?"

Leia and Jaina also looked confused. "Jedi intuition," was his vague, mumbled reply. "We should talk to Admiral Pellaeon," he glanced around at his assembled family. "I think this might call for some Jedi investigation. Threepio, send everything you can find on Croyel and Morgny to my datapad, please."

He turned to leave the room. Leia and Jaina followed. "Wait, Uncle Luke," Jaina exclaimed, "what's going on?"

"I can't say- yet," he smiled apologetically. "But doesn't it seem strange to you that Mara doesn't remember anything about Morgny?"

"Well yes, but…" her eyes brightened and she understood. "Right."

Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene.

"It would seem," Wrynn's voice was low and dangerous, "that we have been played. And we fell for it every step along the way with an inexcusable gullibility."

"But my lord," Croyel frowned, "Durron could never have gotten this far unless he had truly been recruited! He knew the identification phrases, he was at the set place at the right time… perhaps he simply had a change of heart when he realized we had the girl? You yourself expressed a concern that his past friendship with Han Solo could make him… uneasy about it."

Wrynn smiled cruelly. "Wrong, my dear Moff. Here," he waved a hand and a datapad flew to him. "We, of course, had limited surveillance in the girl's room, in the event of any… incidents." He played the recording from the moment Leyla began stirring and called the lights on. They watched her get up swiftly and pack a set of clothes that had been set aside into a small bag, and then she sat and waited patiently for several minutes.

When the door opened and the tall figure stepped through, the girl ran into his arms. There was no audio, but they didn't need it to ascertain the mood of the conversation. He picked up her and hugged her briefly before talking swiftly and seriously to her, then leading her out of the room. Wrynn turned off the recording.

"Clearly," he hissed, "she was waiting for him. _Clearly_, she knows Durron very well, enough that she would have no reservations about following him in an instant. What I want to know is- _how did we not know this_?"

"My lord," Tahlia was hesitant and frightened, "he may have just omitted the fact when he was passing along information out of the temple…"

"You fool!" Wrynn snapped, sending her flying backwards in an outraged burst. "Have you not listened to anything I've said? Durron was not our source! The Jedi woman he attacked before fleeing was, he took and erased her memories!"

A horrible silence descended upon the room. "Moff Croyel," Wrynn finally controlled his fury, "find out for me what Durron's relationship is with the girl, I don't care how you do it. I want to know where he was the day we took her, whether he has ever visited the Fels' apartment on Coruscant… I want to know where the man was the day the girl was born, the day Solo and Fel got married…"

He trailed away, thoughtful, peering down once to glance at the tiny holo image.

"My lord, they married on the living planet of Zonama Sekot; nearly every Jedi is the galaxy was present for Skywalker's conclave, Durron among them."

"Indeed," Wrynn murmured. "Then the girl was already, what? Nearly two years old?"

"Yes; apparently Solo and Fel hid her quite effectively for the first several months. At the time, Solo was highly sought by the invaders, who believed her to be a goddess of sorts."

Wrynn stared at him stonily, remembering an unexpected, recent revelation from one of their sources… that Durron and Jaina Solo had once, briefly, been more than Master and apprentice... "When the child was born, was she named Solo or Solo-Fel?"

"I… I'm not sure…"

"_Find out_," he hissed. "And then… Tahlia," he addressed the woman he had just thrown across the room, "see if you can find a useable DNA sample from Durron's room; Xela, the same for the girl's."

Tahlia and Xela quickly obeyed; Croyel looked more confused than ever. "My lord?"

Wrynn ignored him. "Alert all of our people to be on watch for Durron; surely he wouldn't risk Coruscant… Bastion perhaps? Or maybe he'll just try to disappear, the Galactic Alliance wants him for treason… I don't care. Find him."

Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene.

She slept heavily for a long time, and Kyp wondered if it wasn't the first time she'd gone to sleep feeling safe and secure in the past two months. From periodic, quick glances into her emotions, he knew that, physically she had been unharmed, but she had been a whirlwind of loneliness, fear, and anger, and he worried that the experience would have a lasting effect on her. Probably not, he decided; she had inherited her mother's bravery and Jag had imparted on her his own cool-headedness. Clearly, she had used both traits in the extreme while she watched and waited.

He took some time to toy around in the ship's logs while he waited for Leyla to wake up. Two hours later, satisfied, he was pulling a datacard from the computer just as she inquisitively stuck her head into the cockpit. "Kyp?" she called softly.

"Right here," he stood. "Come on- let's go get some breakfast. Are you hungry?" She nodded gravely. "Alright, let's see what we can find, hm?"

There was a food synthesizer in the galley, he knew from his long voyage with Tahlia to rendez-vous with the armada and the shorter trip from the retreat point back to Gree Baaker. It wasn't the most extravagant of units, but he found a simple sweet pastry that he expected a seven-year-old would like just fine. He programmed the unit and, while he waited, dug around in the storage shelves for some juice packs.

They didn't speak much while she ate her pastry and Kyp chewed slowly on a ration bar, but he could sense that she felt better as she got her blood sugar back up after the exciting events of the night and her long sleep. When she was done eating, she smiled shyly and thanked him.

"Feel better?" he asked kindly.

She nodded. "Are we going to see my parents?"

"Very soon," he promised. "They're not at home though, they're out looking for you just like I was."

"I know," she whispered. "I could feel how worried mommy was."

"Exactly. And it wouldn't be very safe to take you to where they are now, but that's okay, because I'm going to take you to your daddy's Uncle Wedge instead, and _he_ is going to let your parents know that you're safe and that they can come and get you. Okay?"

She looked mildly confused. "Can't you just tell them?"

He sighed. "I wish I could. The thing is, sweetie… the bad people will be out looking for us, and they have a _lot_ of people working for them. I'm worried that if I try to send them a message, one of the bad people will hear it and come after us. Does that make sense?"

"I guess," she sat back heavily. "But can't the bad people hear Uncle Wedge's message too?"

Kyp grinned. "Maybe- but he has a whole big Star Destroyer to protect you with; I just have this tiny little shuttle." She smiled half-heartedly and Kyp winced internally, not relishing making her understand the next part. "Leyla, I have to explain something to you. In order to find you, I had to make everyone think that I was a bad guy just like them."

Her soft brown eyes, so much like Jaina's, widened. "Like Vulcor thought?"

"Exactly. So when we get to your great-uncle Wedge, they'll probably want to take me away and find out why I did the things I did while trying to find you. You understand?" she nodded. "If that happens, I don't want you to worry, okay? You just go with Wedge and- most importantly, Leyla- you stay near him or one of the Jedi you know until your parents arrive, they'll keep you safe."

"Okay," she said quietly.

"Good," he smiled. "Now there's one more little thing. I'm going to give you this datacard before we land," he pulled it from his pocket. "It has some important information on it but, if there are any bad people on the ship, I don't want them to know about it. So what I want you to do is to wait until you're alone with your great-uncle, or you're sure that anyone else near you is someone you can trust, and then I want you to give him this. Think you can do that?"

"Yes."

They sat quietly for a couple of minutes while Leyla sucked absently on the straw of her hydration pack. Once it was empty, he cleaned up the small table and sat back down opposite the small, hunched girl. "Leyla," she looked up at him, "is there anything you'd like to talk about?" She shrugged. "Do you want to tell me about anything that happened while you were stuck there?"

"I… why did they take me away from mommy and daddy?" she asked quietly.

His heart nearly broke at the youthful innocence of her confused pain. He came around the table and sat beside her. "What did they tell you?" In truth, he hadn't received a satisfactory answer to that question himself.

She hesitated, leaning against him for comfort. "Well, Xela told me that mommy sent me with her to protect me, but I could tell that wasn't true. And then… Wrynn told me that he was going to become an emperor, and that scared me, and then I was really scared when he said he wanted me to be an emper-ess one day with him." Kyp's eyes narrowed, remembering Wrynn's comment about Leyla's 'destiny.' "I told him I didn't want to be," she continued in a near-whisper, "because the last emperor was a bad man."

"That was… very brave of you, sweetheart," Kyp sighed. "But don't you worry- he'll never be another emperor."

"Is Great-Uncle Luke going to kill him?" her eyes widened again.

He chuckled. "Well, I don't know about _that_. But someone will have to stop him and the others."

"I hope they don't hurt Vulcor," Leyla murmured softly. "He was nice, he's not like Xela."

Kyp wondered if Vulcor was already dead.

**End Part XVII**


	19. Part 18

**Part XVIII**

Coruscant was in an uproar. In three days, five mid to high ranking government officials in various offices and departments had been arrested, and another nine citizens who worked various jobs from cargo pilots to restaurant owners had been taken into Jedi custody, mostly by the swift and effective team of Jacen Solo and Tesar Sebatyne.

And now another two dozen obvious cases had disappeared, admitting guilt by fleeing the tide of arrests. Their names were added to the ever-expanding list of names which began with Losek's files and grew every time they took a conspirator alive. A couple had succeeded in killing themselves before being taken, and one had even put up such a fight that Shevu's hand-selected team had been forced to kill him to save their own lives, but Jacen wasn't concerned… they were getting more than enough information, slowly unraveling the plot from the one, loose thread that had nearly eluded them, but for Ghent's fast work.

He wished Uncle Luke were there to handle to handle things, but he had the full support from both Cal Omas and Sien Sovv, who were more than eager to eliminate the moles in the government and in the military. And from what Jacen had heard from Bastion, it sounded like the rest of his family had stumbled on to another loose end of the operation.

Now just to hope that the two ends met in the middle- and with Leyla.

Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene.

Wedge Antilles was stir-crazy. He estimated another week before the last of the repairs were completed to Pellaeon's ships, but the galaxy was coming apart around him and he wanted to be out there defending it and trying to find out just who or what was behind this massive conspiracy.

It was late by standard time, but his schedule was off. Without any real work to be done besides the usual systems' monitoring, most of the crew had gone to bed, leaving a relatively bare-bones staff still awake at this hour. Consequently, the mood on the bridge was relatively relaxed and light as he meandered across the deck, making routine checks.

He was preparing to surrender to the night and return to try for a few hours of restless sleep in his cabin, when a sudden exclamation caught his attention. Glancing over curiously, he saw a couple of officers approach the terminal where the surprised man sat, and then one of them approached him.

"General," he snapped to attention in front of Wedge, "a ship just entered the system; it doesn't carry a transponder we recognize, but bears similarities to many of the ships of the forces who attacked a week ago. We're attempting to raise it now."

Wedge joined the lieutenant down to the communications console where a young ensign was addressing the craft. "Unidentified shuttle, state your name, purpose, and cargo." He paused and waited. "Identify yourself, or we'll be forced to disable you."

"What's his entry vector?" Wedge peered around the viewport, looking for the small oncoming craft in the depths of black space in futility.

"Eight point four, sir."

He turned towards the indicated direction, still searching. "Arm ion cannons," he said distractedly. "But hold your fire."

The bridge snapped to action at his order, and Wedge thought he glimpsed the shimmer of the shuttle against the darkness of space. A new set of footsteps approached, and he turned to see Kenth Hamner, Saba Sebatyne, and Zekk approaching quickly, but without alarm. "Trouble?" Hamner asked mildly.

"Can't tell yet," he murmured, peering back out into space. "Couldn't sleep either?"

"Ah," Zekk said, "your first mistake was assuming that Jedi require such mundane, human things as sleep, General." Wedge shot him a look. "And no, we sensed… something."

Before he could seek clarification, a soft beeping sounded from the communications terminal. Captain Bimb, having just arrived following the status alerts, leaned over and consulted with the ensign. Straightening, he walked quickly over to Wedge and handed him his datapad. "Message for you, sir."

"Message?" Wedge asked, nonplussed.

"Yes, sir, from the incoming craft. Standard Alliance encryption."

Frowning, he took Bimb's datapad and keyed in his encryption code- and stared at the screen for close to thirty seconds. "General?" Hamner asked hesitantly.

"Come with me," he snapped. He led the three Jedi to a private briefing room on one end of the bridge and, the instant the door closed, spun on them. "Can you sense that shuttle?"

"This one doez not understand," Sebatyne said slowly.

His voice was impatient. "The shuttle- can you sense who is on it?" In tandem, the three Jedi exerted themselves across the hundreds of kilometers still separating the two vessels. "Well? Is she there?"

Zekk was the first to notice it. "Yes," he gasped in surprise. "It's Leyla."

"And Kyp."

"What?" Wedge spun on Hamner. "Durron's got her?"

"General," Zekk interrupted pointedly, "what did the message say?"

Wedge held up the datapad. "Not much- 'General Antilles, I carry sensitive cargo to be delivered to you personally and discreetly.' What do you think?" he asked worriedly. "Is he using her as a shield screen? Or insurance?"

Zekk looked skeptical. "If he were, he'd have broadcast it across the ship. I think he's looking for a quiet reception."

"Well," Wedge grimaced, "we can certainly give him that." He strode back out of the conference room and approached Captain Bimb who was standing with the newly arrived Lieutenant Drixl. "Captain, send a transponder beacon to direct that shuttle to my personal hangar bay, arrange to have my X-wing moved if need be. And then, Lieutenant, you will select your two most trusted guards and join us to await it."

"Yes, sir," they snapped into action.

"Come," he gestured the Jedi to join him, "let us see what Master Durron has to say to defend himself this time."

Zekk spoke up quietly, hesitantly. "He _did_ bring Leyla here…"

"After attacking a Jedi and a Master, disappearing, and turning up days later as part of an attacking force rebelling against the GA," Wedge snapped.

The rest of the journey was made in silence at a hurried pace. They stood outside the blast doors to the private hangar for several minutes, waiting for the shuttle to land and the force-field to return breathable atmosphere to the bay. Shortly before the all-clear was given, they were joined by Lieutenant Drixl and two sergeants who looked appropriately disinterested, simply following orders.

As they entered the hangar, the hiss of the descending landing ramp sounded. Wedge waited with bated breath as the Jedi stood tensely by his side until, finally, the clunk of heavy boots could be heard, with a faint patter of quieter feet accompanying. He inhaled sharply as he saw Durron appear at the top of the ramp, arm outstretched…

And then Leyla took his hand and they descended together. She looked nervous; Durron's expression was unreadable. When they reached the bottom of the ramp, Wedge called out to them. "Stop there, Durron, it's far enough." He approached, still flanked by the Jedi; Drixl and his guards stood at the entrance to the hangar. "Let her go."

He watched in consternation as Durron drew his hand away from Leyla's, and she reluctantly released it. She looked up and smiled upon seeing him, but didn't move. "Go on," Durron murmured, giving her shoulders a slight nudge. She looked up at him nervously. "Hey," his voice was deceptively soft, Wedge thought. "Remember what I told you?" she nodded. "Go ahead then; they'll take care of you."

Slowly, she walked forward, smiling again and Wedge kneeled down to embrace her, beaming. "We've all missed you, Leyla," he said quietly. "But you're safe now. You know Zekk, right?" She looked up at the tall, dark-haired Jedi with wide eyes and grinned. "He's going to take you to my cabin and I'll be along in a minute, okay?"

"Alright," she murmured, slipping her tiny hand into Zekk's much larger one. They were almost out the door before Wedge turned to Kyp.

"Kyp Durron, you are hereby placed into custody of the Galactic Alliance under suspicion of treason against the state and the military. Masters Hamner and Sebatyne, as well as Lieutenant Drixl's men, will accompany you into the holding block, where you will await our return to Coruscant and a military tribunal." He spoke in a soft, deadly serious tone. "I don't think I need point out, _Master_ Durron, that a guilty conviction is liable to be accompanied with a death sentence."

He heard a gasp from across the hangar and spun. Leyla wrenched her hand out of Zekk's grip and stood, frozen, staring between him and the prone Jedi Master who was watching her with a sorrowful expression. "It's alright, Leyla," Durron spoke softly. She let out a sob and raced back across the hangar.

"Leyla!" Wedge barked. The others just watched, perplexed, as she ran to Durron and launched herself into his arms, crying.

"Oh, sweetheart," Durron lowered her to the ground and knelt before her. "I told you not to worry, remember? I promise you that everything will be alright, but for now, you need to go with Zekk and wait for your parents, okay?" He stroked her hair and she nodded, hiccoughing through her tears. He looked up as Zekk approached slowly, regarding the two of them with an apologetic air about him. "Keep her safe," he said softly to Zekk, who nodded and picked up the upset girl.

Wedge watched them leave this time, before looking back calculatingly at the Jedi Master who stood calmly, waiting to be led away. "Don't suppose you'd care to explain anything right now?" he asked sarcastically.

Durron just smiled wryly, looking around the hangar and focusing a look at Drixl's guards. "No," he said simply.

Hamner and Sebatyne led him away.

Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene.

Jaina sat in the _Falcon_'s co-pilot seat, anxious to lift off. They were to accompany the Jedi strike team that was heading to Generis in the slight but hopeful chance that Leyla would turn up somewhere in the governor's palace. Since she had woken up two nights ago, her daughter's emotions had been helter-skelter and Jaina had begun to fear that she had misread the girl's happiness- wishful thinking, perhaps.

"Relax, honey," Han glanced over at her. "We'll be on our way soon enough. They're just going over Jacen's last report from Coruscant."

They had been amazed when they learned the full extent of Jacen's activities in the past handful of days. Particularly startling had been the highly encrypted communiqué between Admiral Sovv and Admiral Pellaeon which had identified three more crew members on Pellaeon's own flagship as well as four high officials within the Imperial hierarchy. Of the seven, one had fled, one was dead, and the other five were successfully contained. The prisoners had not yet been interrogated, but Luke didn't want to wait, fearing that they would lose their window to strike quickly, now that the galaxy at large was becoming aware of the vastness of the underground organization.

But they were still just sitting here on the _Right to Rule_…

Sighing impatiently, Jaina stood abruptly and paced the cockpit for a minute, before heading aft, determined to see what was taking so long. She was turning the corner to descend the landing ramp when she nearly ran headlong into Admiral Pellaeon himself. "Oh!" she exclaimed. "My apologies, Admiral. Are we ready for liftoff?"

"There's been a change of plans actually," he said, eyes bright. Jaina frowned. "Ah, Colonel Fel," Jag stuck his head out from the cockpit. "A word?"

"Certainly, sir," Jag joined them near the ramp. "A change of plans, you said?"

Pellaeon smiled. "I just received a transmission from General Antilles that I'd like to show you. Here," he pulled a datapad from his pocket and passed it over.

Jag glanced at it and frowned, looking back up at the admiral. "This is your-eyes-only, Admiral…"

"Just read it," the older man waved him off.

Jaina read it twice before the words began to sink in.

_Second intercepted lost package- in good condition- please inform owners._

"You mean…" she was breathless. "He has her…?"

"I see no other plausible explanation," Pellaeon said, smiling warmly. "He included rendez-vous coordinates embedded in another message, midway between you two so as to shorten your journey." He passed a slip of flimsi to Jag who took it dazedly.

"I…" her eyes were suddenly, inexplicably damp, and she turned to Jag, smiling hopefully. He still looked mildly stunned as he drew her into a fierce hug.

He spoke over the top of her head softly. "Thank you, Admiral; for everything."

"Of course," he graciously smiled. "Now go get your daughter; Master Skywalker will handle the mission to Generis." After shaking their hands, he swiftly departed to inform Luke of the update.

Jaina dragged Jag into the cockpit where her parents were sitting, watching them with poorly-veiled curiosity. "Start her up," she grinned at her dad. "We're leaving."

"Is Luke's team ready?"

Her smile broadened. "Doesn't matter; new mission." Her eyes were bright and shining. "Wedge has her."

Total silence reigned for ten seconds. "What? How?" Leia finally managed.

"Don't know, don't care." Han started up the primary sequences. "Let's get her first and ask questions after."

Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene.

Zekk looked up as Wedge walked into the sitting room of his private cabin. Leyla was curled up on a large chair, dozing lightly, and Zekk watched her, wishing Jaina and Jag were here; her heartache had been gut-wrenching when he last saw her.

"She alright?" Wedge asked quietly.

Zekk shrugged. "I think so… you sort of freaked her out."

Wedge grimaced. "Yeah, thanks," he bit. "I thought you'd left. Anyway, what's her attachment to Durron? Or do you figure he's cultivated that since…?"

"We don't know _what_ happened or how he came to have her," Zekk said firmly. "But we do know that he brought her purposefully to you, so you might start giving him a little more benefit of the doubt… Sir."

For a moment, Wedge pursed his lips, trying to decide whether he was annoyed. Then he let it out and sighed, sitting down heavily. "Maybe," he conceded. "You know, you Jedi really don't hesitate to speak your mind, do you?" Zekk shrugged. "I just… I met Kyp Durron when he was just a kid, and a matter of weeks later, he went on a murderous rampage and killed millions of people with the _Sun Crusher_. He hurt a friend of mine, stealing her memories, rendering her almost helpless- much like he's done now to that Jedi girl back on Coruscant," he added pointedly. "I watched while he used Jaina Solo to achieve his own sadistic ends, and then had to witness the aftermath- it tore her up inside, what he did, and she eventually ran away for it."

"I thought she ran away because she was pregnant."

Wedge shook his head. "Who knows, maybe both then. The point is that for twenty-some odd years, I've watched Kyp Durron rise and fall repeatedly, and every time he falls, he destroys everything he touches on the way. Oh," he smiled bitterly, "and did I mention? He's erased the ship's computer data; any information Durron has to offer, we're going to have to get it the hard way. Does that seem like an innocent thing to do?"

Leyla stirred and the two men quickly abandoned the line of conversation. "Leyla," Wedge called softly, "let's get you to bed, you've had an exciting night. _I've_ had an exciting night," he added ruefully. She blinked a few times before sitting up suddenly and looking around. "What's the matter?"

She scrambled down from the chair and reached into a pocket of her little jumpsuit. Walking quickly over to Wedge, she pulled out a datacard and handed it up to him, eyes wide. Zekk frowned bemusedly.

"What's this?" Wedge asked, smiling but confused.

"Important things that Kyp didn't want the bad people to know you had," she answered seriously.

Wedge and Zekk exchanged a quick look. "What sorts of important things?" Zekk asked slowly.

She shrugged. "He didn't tell me. But he said that there are lots of bad people and that I should only trust Uncle Wedge and the Jedi." Her grave voice shook a little.

Slowly taking the datacard from her fingers, Wedge pulled out his datapad and inserted it. It took a few moments for the data to load and when it did, Wedge quickly found himself scanning and scrolling through it- and there was a _lot_.

"What is it?" Zekk asked.

"It's… everything. The computer data from the shuttle, coordinates to the last known location of the armada, coordinates for the planet where they're headquartered… precise location of the headquarters themselves… names… and…" he frowned. "A message."

"Oh? Saying what?"

Wedge smiled grimly. "That the walls have ears." He sighed and closed his eyes in exhaustion. "Either I underestimated Master Durron- or he's playing a far more complicated game that I ever expected."

**End Part XVIII**


	20. Part 19

**Part XIX**

"He returned to the recovering fleet, hm?" Wrynn pondered that information carefully. "An interesting move, to be sure, given that the Galactic Alliance wants him for treason. Was he arrested?"

Croyel nodded. "On sight. It seems that General Antilles has no love for Durron, even before this. He wants to see Durron go through the wringer for what he's done- and what he suspects he's done- he has already pegged him for a full military tribunal."

Wrynn frowned. "What does he suspect?"

"According to sources… the thought has at least crossed his mind that Durron took the girl in the first place. And even if he denies it convincingly, the rest of the evidence is still damning enough. Drixl assures me that he managed to erase the shuttle's logs before anyone noticed, Antilles will be haranguing him for that for days before he even suspects that Durron didn't do it himself." The dark man sat back, pensive. "Should we terminate him while he's still confined on the Star Destroyer?"

Wrynn thought for a long moment. "No," he finally said. "We need to keep the fleet preoccupied with Durron's alleged treachery- perhaps there is even some verity to the accusation, he seems to have stepped on a lot of toes to accomplish what he did. An impressive feat; all the more the pity that he wasn't one of ours. Have the girl's parents been notified?"

Croyel hesitated. "Drixl says yes; we seem to have… lost many of our sources on Bastion and among the Fourth Fleet, however."

"Oh?" Wrynn's voice was low and dangerous. "More of Jacen Solo's doing?"

"Unlikely; it remains unclear as to the source of Solo's information on Coruscant, but his strikes have been exclusively targeted on the capital. I suspect that Pellaeon learned more than we thought from the vessels he captured in the Moffs' attack."

Wrynn sighed. "Well, this is why our informants exist in tightly controlled loops. Solo will run out of new names, and, by then, the armada will be ready and unstoppable. Let him play sleuth for now, he'll tire of it once he realizes that the girl is recovered." He paused and eyed Croyel coolly. "We are sure that Losek is dead, and that his files are destroyed?"

"Yes, my lord."

"Then there is no cause for concern," he waved his hand dismissively.

"Should we send the armada back against the Second Fleet?"

The other man's look was incredulous. "You think Antilles is going to stay where he is, now that he has the girl? No, as far as the girl goes- we've lost that round, Moff Croyel. But no matter- the galaxy is doing a marvelous job of self-destructing on its own."

Croyel sat quietly for a few minutes, but finally had to ask. "Have you… killed the one who failed you so grievously?"

"Vulcor?" Wrynn's brows rose. "No, I haven't yet decided his fate. He is still young, still soft, but… his initial punishment was enough to teach him a long lesson about the unfairness of the galaxy."

Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene.

Wedge keyed open the door of the holding cell where Kyp Durron had been delivered late the prior night, telling Masters Hamner and Sebatyne to wait outside the door for the time-being. It was an unfortunate use of their abilities, but the _Mon Mothma_ was not equipped to hold a Jedi, and particularly not one as powerful as Durron.

Granted, if he wanted to escape, Wedge half-suspected that he could easily bypass both of the other masters. For now though, Durron seemed content to maintain pretenses of being Wedge's prisoner.

Last night, Wedge had put Leyla to bed in a small guest room where his own daughters slept the rare times they had reason to join him on his flagship. Zekk had graciously offered to stay in the sitting room as an extra line of security, and Wedge had accepted instantly, relieved. In relative peace of mind, he then spent another hour going through the information on the datacard Leyla had handed him, until sleep finally claimed him; he slept for four hours, and then spent another two perusing the datapad, leaving Captain Bimb in charge of the ship.

Now, he knew he had no choice but to consult with Durron while maintaining appearances as best as possible that he didn't trust the man- not hard, because he didn't. But if Durron was right, if this 'Red Hand' organization really did have spies sown throughout the highest levels of the government, of the military… then he couldn't let them know the details Durron had passed on.

As he stepped through the door, the Jedi Master in question stared at him neutrally, unmoving from the stiff cot on the opposite side of the small chamber. For a minute, the two men stared at each other, sizing one another up until, grudgingly, Wedge broke the silence.

"We're alone; the holocams are undergoing "routine maintenance" for the next hour; the room is clean of espionage devices. That's the best I can do."

Nodding, Durron seemed to relax slightly, losing a touch of his cold arrogance. "She gave it to you?"

"Obviously. And before I do anything about it, I need to know whether or not you're playing games with me, Durron."

"I'm not. This threat is real."

"So was your attack on a fellow Jedi," Wedge replied evenly. "So was your presence among the attacking force against the Fourth Fleet."

"I did what I had to do."

Wedge frowned. "Clearly," his voice was rueful. "At complete disregard for anyone in your way. What I want to know though, before we can talk about anything else- is why? And how?"

Durron's voice carried a touch of impatience. "I should think the why was obvious," he snapped.

"Leyla," Wedge acknowledged slowly. "But what is she to you, Durron? Why risk your position among the Jedi, your freedom… your _life_… on her?" For a long time, they sat in silence. "Did you do it for Jaina?"

"I did it because it was the right thing to do," Durron snarled, and Wedge knew he had touched a nerve. The question being- which one?

After another moment of staring impassively at each other, Wedge accepted that and moved on. "And how is it that you came by information that led you to her so quickly, while everyone else spent weeks floundering before making any progress?"

"_Has _anyone else made any progress?"

Wedge shrugged. "Jacen Solo uncovered something and has been routing spies from within the government for the past several days. Well?"

The Jedi looked like he struggled whether or not to reveal the truth- the whole truth, at any rate. Finally, he relented. "The night of the raid on Jaina and Jag's apartment, one of the commandos survived," Wedge started in surprise. "I took him and interrogated him, and followed a slow trail of information from there."

"You took him…?" Wedge was confused, and then angry. "What the hell were you doing in their apartment in the middle of the night? Durron… you and Jaina aren't…?" he trailed away suspiciously.

Dark eyes flashed angrily. "Would you think before you make baseless accusations and crude assumptions?" he hissed. "What, do you think I staged an emergency at Jag's work so that Jaina would be alone? The only reason he wasn't there was because he was lured away just before the attack!"

Wedge had the good grace to appear embarrassed. "My apologies," he said smoothly. "But given your past with her…" he shrugged and dropped it. "So why were you there?"

"I sensed a problem."

Wedge muttered something that might have been '_Jedi._' "Fine," he said louder. "I suppose I'm just going to have to accept that for now, aren't I?" He continued without waiting for an answer. "Now what is it you propose I do about this headquarters on Gree Baaker, and the armada amassing in deep space?"

"You?" Durron smirked. "Nothing. But someone- _Jedi_- needs to go and strike against the headquarters, cut the head off of this entire operation and rout the conspirators from the top-down."

"And I suppose you plan to be a part of the strike force?"

He shrugged. "It would make sense, especially if we can catch them before they flee their hideout. Eventually though, they'll realize that they're compromised, which is why we need to act soon. I'm counting on having bought some time by coming here- I don't think they'll have expected that. But by now, they know I'm here, and it can't be long until they realize I've passed along everything I know about them."

"Hm," Wedge considered him. "That was an interesting trick with the ship's computer and the datacard. It's likely to have bought you some time."

"Trick?" Durron frowned.

Wedge stared. "Uploading the data and erasing the mainframe."

"I didn't erase the mainframe…"

A tap on the door startled both of them. With a last glance at Durron, Wedge strode over and keyed the release code. The door slid open to reveal his aide, Lieutenant Drixl.

"Priority message from Admiral Sovv, General," Drixl said quietly in stilted military tones, entering the cell. The door shut behind him.

Wedge took the proffered datapad and thumbed in his clearance code and the encryption keys. The message popped up, and he stared, frozen, at the screen. His eyes darted once to Durron, back to Drixl, and then resumed focusing on the screen. His hand dropped casually to his blaster…

"Down!" Durron yelled at him, and he dropped moments before a shot rang over his head. Shocked, he looked up and saw Drixl staring between him and the Jedi, wide-eyed, calculatingly. He raised his blaster slowly, not training it on either one… "No!" Durron shouted, gesturing with one hand.

The shot intended for Drixl's own head went wide, burning a line across his scalp. Durron yanked the blaster to his own hand at the same moment that Hamner and Sebatyne came flying through the door, lightsabers at the ready. They took in the scene, looking around wildly.

Wedge stood shakily and sighed, drawing his blaster and stunning his stricken aide. "Master Durron," he turned slowly, "how many people did you want for that strike team?"

Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene.

Jacen stared in surprise as the Supreme Commander of the whole GA Defense Force stepped into the Masters' Chamber, where Jacen had been told to await a visitor. He had gotten the impression that it was someone important, who wanted to speak with him discreetly. That it was someone _this_ important had not crossed his mind.

"Admiral Sovv," he remembered himself. "What can I do for you?"

"Jedi Solo," the Sullust spoke in thickly accented Basic, "I am on my way to meet with Chief Omas, but wanted to give you the good news personally- just a couple of hours ago, I received a heavily encrypted transmission from General Antilles. Your niece is safely in his care, and your sister and brother-in-law are already en route to them from Bastion with your parents."

A broad smile lit up Jacen's face. "When? How?" he asked excitedly.

"That's all I know; I'm sure you'll be able to learn more once your family intercepts her."

"Of course; thank you, Admiral," he said sincerely. "That is… relieving."

Sovv smiled, face-folds crinkling. "You're doing good work here, Jacen. Soon, I hope, we can put this whole thing well behind us."

Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene.

Two hours later, Wedge had successfully- and relatively quietly, with the help of Hamner and Sebatyne- subdued the other four crew members on his own ship indicated in Sovv's message. If there were more in the fleet, Sovv had sent that information specifically to ship commanders, and Wedge would just have to trust that they were handling things on their own.

The fleet was almost ready to make the jump to hyperspace- another three hours, tops- which meant that he needed to send the small team consisting of Durron, Hamner, Sebatyne, and Zekk first. It was equally imperative that they move as quickly as possible because eventually, they would realize that their spies had all been found out and that Durron was no longer in captivity- and coming for them.

Now, as Wedge led Durron from the detention center up to his private cabin, the only space he was particularly willing to trust, even after arresting the spies, he contemplated whether this changed anything about his feelings towards Durron, knowing that he had been telling the truth at least this far. Despite it all, he still got the distinct feeling that the Jedi Master was keeping something from him. Maybe it was nothing important, maybe it was something about Jaina- he _had_ struck a nerve there, regardless- but this was his ship and he really didn't like feeling out of the loop.

They stepped through into the sitting room where Zekk was quietly pointing out something on Durron's datacard to two Masters. "Where's Leyla?" Durron asked, and Wedge quickly throttled his inexplicable annoyance over the other man's concern.

"Watching some silly holovid," Zekk murmured distractedly, pointing towards one of the doors leading off of the room.

The words had barely left his mouth before said door opened and Leyla stuck out her head, smiling brightly for the first time that Wedge had seen since arriving several hours prior; smiling brightly- at Durron. Wedge sighed, wondering how the rogue Jedi Master had somehow managed to utterly enchant two generations of Solo girls.

"Kyp!" she squealed. "You're out of jail?"

Wedge's lips quirked and Durron fought a smile. "For now," he said. "I have some things to take care of before they can lock me up again," he teased, though something serious certainly remained in his tone.

"Oh," she frowned, expression remarkably serious and thoughtful for her age. "Well, you'll say hi to mommy and daddy first, won't you?"

He smiled sadly. "I'm afraid I won't be here when they arrive."

She stared. "You- you're leaving?"

"Only for a few days."

Her face fell dramatically, and she quickly disappeared back into the guest room. Wedge shot a glare at Durron who held up his hands defensively, then sighed and followed his great-niece. "Leyla?" he asked as he opened the door. "Sweetie, what's wrong?"

She was sitting on one of the beds, legs drawn tight against her chest, head resting on her knees. Her dark wavy hair had been released from the long braid down her back and hung in a curtain around her face. Her little shoulders slumped as he sat on the edge of the bed and reached a hand out to pull some of the hair out of her face. "Hm?" he murmured.

"I," she struggled to articulate, "It's just… Kyp's _leaving_." She turned her sad little face towards him. "And he told me he wouldn't leave me!"

Wedge frowned, but before he could reply, Durron spoke up from the doorway. Wedge hadn't even noticed him following. "When did I say that?" he asked bemusedly. She went pink and buried her face again, shaking her hair back from where Wedge had pulled it behind her ear. Mumbling something inarticulate, Durron stepped further into the room to try to hear her. "Hey, Leyla," he sat down and pulled her stiffly into his lap, "talk to me, hm?"

"You said it at my birthday," she muttered, refusing to move from her curled position.

Now Durron really looked confused. "Your birthday? Which one?"

"When I was little," she grumbled, "and you were late because you had to go to Ober… Obir… something Sky!" she huffed. "Daddy let me stay up with you and you said that you weren't going to leave me!"

He opened his mouth to respond, then stopped and stared at her. "You were two!" he exclaimed. "Do you really remember that?"

Her head shot up and she definitely looked a little guilty. "I- no," she admitted softly. "Not really. But… Wrynn taught me how, I wanted to know how I really got taken away from home. And when I could tell you were looking for me, I remembered waiting for you way back then…" she trailed away and her eyes watered. "Are you mad at me?"

"Oh," Durron sighed sadly and drew her into his arms, and she finally relented and curled up against him, "of course not, sweetheart. But I need you to understand that I have to leave now so that you can be safe, so that Wrynn won't ever try to take you away from your parents again."

She nodded. "Be careful," she muttered, voice muffled by his robes, "I think he hurt Vulcor."

He pulled away and looked down at her forlorn face. "I'll be careful," he assured her. "Will you be good? I think your great-uncle Wedge here could use some help running his ship…" she giggled. "Okay. I'll stop in and say goodbye before we leave, alright?"

She nodded, and Durron swept from the room, an unidentifiable expression covering his features.

**End Part XIX**

**A/N**: One of my few and far between author notes… given a lack of comments one way or the other, I hope you all are enjoying this, there seems to be a fairly consistent group of you reading, based on the number of hits each chapter accumulates…

Anyway, only a few parts left to go, so you should have the whole thing by the weekend. :-)

Cheers!


	21. Part 20

**A/N**: this chapter possibly has one of my favorite scenes to write EVER. :-D

**Part XX**

Her heart lurched as the ship dropped out of hyperspace, the brief fear that they were mistaken, that Pellaeon's coordinates had been wrong, that any number of things had gone wrong… all those thoughts flitted through her mind in the second it took to revert to real space after Han pushed up on the hyperdrive levers.

But the Second Fleet was there alright, and Jaina let out a quiet sigh of relief, a breath she had been holding for the almost three day journey. Jag reached over and squeezed her hand, and she smiled broadly while Leia raised the flagship on the comm.

A familiar voice boomed out over the speaker. "_Millennium Falcon_, have you come to pick up your cargo?"

"You betcha, _General_," Han replied and grinned. "Where do you want us?"

"Ah- just a second, my newly promoted second-in-command will give you further instructions…"

The passengers aboard the _Falcon_ frowned, until a softer, hesitant voice spoke up, clearly reading something off of a screen while she spoke. "Maintain a point eight entry… vic…"

"_Vector_," Wedge could be heard muttering.

"Vector," she corrected loudly. "And a homing…"

"_Beacon_."

"A homing beacon… oh, Uncle Wedge, you read it!" Han and Leia laughed, Jag grinned, and Jaina felt tears forming in her eyes yet again.

She stood and leaned over the speaker. "Leyla, honey, it's mommy- we'll see you really soon, alright?"

"Okay!" the bright voice replied. "And daddy and grandma and grandpa are there too?"

"That's right," Han grinned. "So you better resign your newly instated commission, because we're going to be too busy celebrating."

A soft giggle could be heard before Wedge finished relaying their landing instructions. In another fifteen minutes, they were setting down in a small hangar- unbeknownst to them yet, the same hangar where Kyp and Leyla had landed three nights prior. As the _Falcon_ finished its landing and power-down sequences, Jaina stood shifting her weight, fidgeting as she waited for the hangar pressure to restabilize so they could release the pressure seals and lower the hatch. Completely distracted, she started as a pair of strong arms wrapped around her waist. Smiling, she twisted around and draped her own arms around Jag's neck, leaning up on tip-toes to kiss him.

"Just not in front of the kid, alright?" Han muttered as he pushed past them. Leia sighed and rolled her eyes, following him aft.

Jaina and Jag broke apart as a loud beeping noise signaled the resumed safety of the hangar. He took her hand and pulled her to the ramp, which Han already had descending by the time they got there. The blast doors were still opening as they hurried to the bottom of the ramp, but Wedge and Leyla were already striding through into the hangar, her hand tucked safely in his.

Her little eyes looked up, brightened… and then she was running across the durasteel floor, and Jaina and Jag hurried forward to meet her. "Mommy! Daddy!"

Jag swung her up into his arms and Jaina reached out to stroke her hair before leaning in and hugging her while Jag balanced the seven-year-old in the air. "Oh, sweetie, we've missed you so much," Jaina murmured, holding tight. "I'm so glad to have you back."

"Me too," the girl said seriously, and Jaina pulled back to study the face that she hadn't seen in too long.

Leyla's eyes were bright, her smile broad, and her overall demeanor was one of overjoyed happiness. Nevertheless, there was something different… a lingering air of worry perhaps, and a sensation of being slightly hardened in the ways of the world that would have broken Jaina's heart, had she not been so happy just to see her.

"How are you, sweetie?" Han reached out and squeezed her hand, and Leyla beamed up and him and Leia.

"Good," she said somberly, "but I missed you all." Jag pulled the girl close to him and kissed her cheek. She giggled. "Daddy!" she exclaimed, "your beard tickles!"

Wedge finally caught up and grinned. "Hm, Colonel Fel- unshaven, out of uniform… tsk tsk."

Jaina threw herself into Wedge's arms, hugging him tightly. "Thank you for keeping her safe, Wedge," she murmured, dropping the usual formalities given the circumstances.

"Yeah well," Wedge muttered, "it got a lot easier once your brother's list of names turned up some shady characters here on my own ship." He reached out and shook Han's hand and hugged Leia quickly before turning to lead them out of the cold hangar.

"Anyone… surprising?" Leia asked.

Wedge grimaced. "You could say that- my aide, Lieutenant Drixl."

"No!" Leia gasped. "Did he, er… go quietly?"

The general rolled his eyes as he keyed open the door to his cabin, just down a short corridor from the hangar. "Not in the least. Went for me and when that didn't work, tried to off himself… we got him though, he's in holding, along with the others." He motioned for everyone to sit. Jaina and Jag took up a small sofa, and Jaina pulled Leyla into her own lap, simply reveling in the feeling of seeing and holding her once more. "Hopefully, the ship is secured now."

"Wedge," Jaina reluctantly looked up away from Leyla's grinning face, "where's Kyp?" His expression of surprise caught her off-guard. "I mean… wasn't he the one who…?"

Leyla nodded and smiled. "Kyp found me," she declared happily, but then her face fell slightly. "But he's gone again." Something in her voice gave Jaina pause… a reservation, or hesitancy…

"Yes," Wedge said slowly. "You knew then, what he was doing?"

"I…" Jaina hesitated, looking back up. "We knew that he was pursuing his own leads; but he told us not to contact him again until we had her back. The last any of us saw him was the day after the attack, when Jag gave him a datacard of relevant information from the embassy, mostly."

Wedge sat back and considered her. "Well you realize that he's gotten himself into more than a little trouble in the meantime?"

"Yeah," Jag winced. "We were hoping that he could ah… shed some light on that when we got here. You said he's gone though?"

Leyla spoke up quietly. "He went to go make sure that the bad people can't take me away again," her voice trembled, and Jaina hugged her tighter.

"I'm so sorry, Leyla," Jaina murmured, voice breaking. "I tried so hard to stop them…"

"I know," the girl replied. "And I knew you'd find me."

Jag pulled the two of them sideways and Jaina leaned against him, Jag's arms wrapped around them both. For a long time, even as Wedge explained everything that had happened since Kyp had turned up with Leyla, and he and Han and Leia talked softly, the three of them just sat like that, a family once more.

Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene.

Alurin uncharacteristically burst into Croyel's office without knocking. The Moff looked up, shot him a glance, and went back to reading his reports. "I thought you were due to stay on Generis for another week," he commented idly.

"We have a problem," Alurin snapped, harried. "A big problem- a Jedi problem."

Croyel quirked a brow and looked up again. "Solos?"

"Skywalkers. And another dozen of them raiding _your_ government on Generis."

Now he certainly had Croyel's attention. "Oh?" he asked softly. "That is problematic." He cursed. "Those fools; our puppets among the Moffs must have been careless with their forces, only that could have led them to me." He sighed heavily. "What sort of force?"

"Just the Jedi- fourteen snubfighters. But Pellaeon is only a short jump away, still orbiting Bastion."

Croyel's lip curled disdainfully. "Alert the armada to standby to launch at my order; we have no choice." He stood. "I must confer with Lord Wrynn, but I suspect we'll be forced to abandon future repairs and launch the strike on Coruscant quickly, while most of the Galactic Alliance Defense Force is tied up elsewhere. I'm going down," he strode out into the hallway, Alurin behind him. "In the meantime, get me the locations of the other three fleets- oh," he turned, "and find out if the Second Fleet has moved with the girl yet, it might be worth our while to take it out while half of the Solo family is in one spot."

He keyed in the access code and quickly descended to the hidden bunker. His footsteps echoed in the quiet corridor as he swiftly walked towards the antechamber where Wrynn usually was during the day, either working with his apprentices, or perusing the data sources Croyel delivered to him daily, when he was on-planet.

"My lord," he ignored the two apprentices in front of Wrynn, "we have a problem- Skywalker and a squadron of Jedi are raiding Generis as we speak."

Wrynn stared at him for a moment. "Is there anything on Generis leading to us here?" he asked coolly.

"Of- of course not," Croyel frowned. "But…"

"My, it certainly seems that your time as a Moff is over then, doesn't it?"

The two glared at each other. "Yes," Croyel said stiffly. "It does. Nevertheless, we need to assume now that the Jedi will be able to find us before the month is out; we need to launch now."

Wrynn considered this. "Hm," he murmured. "I suppose you may be right."

"Alurin is looking into the locations of the First, Third, and Fifth Fleets. I… wonder if we should attack the Second Fleet while it still is undergoing repairs; even with our own damages, we'd surely outgun it, and it would be one less force behind our backs as we move on Coruscant."

"And by now," Wrynn speculated, "the Fels and the Solos have reunited with their lost cub. They are surely too dangerous to be kept alive any longer; we should have issued orders to kill Solo-Fel during the raid. No matter," he sniffed. "Xela!" he called.

The tall, blonde woman approached slowly. "My lord?" she purred.

"Return to the armada; assess the speed of repairs, how compromised the firepower is… and when you are satisfied, give the launch order. I'll tell you where shortly."

She smiled cruelly. "Yes, my lord. I can be ready to depart within the hour."

"See that you are."

As she turned and glided from the room, Croyel's datapad beeped, receiving a message. He pulled it from his pocket and read it three times before his stomach dropped and his face went white. "My… my lord," he stammered. "I fear we are too late."

"What is it?" Wrynn snapped.

"It seems that Alurin has had no success raising Drixl, nor anyone else in the Second; the same in the First and Fourth. His last communication from Drixl was just over two days ago though, of course, he could have been taken any time between then and now…"

Wrynn's eyes were terrifying and stony. "No," he murmured. "No, we must assume the worst."

"The worst?"

"The worst, my dear Moff," Wrynn said dangerously, "that Drixl's uncovered treachery has put aside doubts against Durron." He thought long and hard. "Even without his shuttle's data, he can still find us here easily; but the same is not true of the armada.

"Moff Croyel, for too long have I cowered in this bunker, sending others forth to do my work while I fought to restore the glory of a lost empire. The time is come for us to unveil ourselves. Our network served us well, and those who died rather than allow themselves to be taken alive, they shall be honored; the rest shall die slowly and painfully when we take over the government. And," his cruel smile deepened, "Jacen Solo shall feel the brunt of my wrath."

Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene.

Han and Leia retired to an unoccupied cabin just down the corridor from Wedge's. He offered Jaina and Jag the use of the extra room in his own cabin where Leyla had slept the past couple of nights, and they gladly accepted.

They sat in the sitting room with him for a last nightcap after the long and emotional day. Leyla sat between her parents on the couch, and periodically she would look up at one of them, open her mouth to say something, glance at Wedge, and then close her mouth and change her mind. After the third or fourth time this happened, Jag set his glass down and looked down at her seriously.

"Yes?"

She flushed. Jag looked bemusedly up at Jaina, who shrugged; she thought she'd sensed earlier that Leyla was holding something back and just assumed that it was something about her captivity that would come out in due course, when she was ready.

Finally, Leyla spoke softly. "I want to ask you something," she mumbled. "But I'm afraid you'll get mad at me."

Jaina chuckled. "Leyla, believe me, there's nothing you can ask that will make _me_ mad- not right now, anyway. I'm too happy to have you back with me." She tickled the girl lightly and she laughed but pulled away and became serious once more immediately. "But why would you think we'd be mad?"

"Because…" she looked down, "I think it's supposed to be a secret, and Uncle Wedge doesn't like Kyp very much…"

Wedge looked torn between amusement and guilt. "Hey," he said, "he found you, so I guess he's alright in my book at the moment."

Leyla seemed to consider that a moment before nodding and setting her face in firm resolve…

"Is Kyp my real father?"

A ringing silence followed the question- and then Wedge, Jaina, and Jag all spoke at once.

"What?" Wedge demanded, eyes flashing. "Did _he_ tell you _that_?"

"Oh, sweetie…" Jaina sighed and closed her eyes.

"Yes, he is." Three pairs of eyes swiveled to Jag. "What?" he snapped at Jaina, "I'm not going to lie to her, she clearly already suspects, regardless of how she knows. And if Kyp told her, it was his choice to do so, just like it was his choice five years ago to _not_ do so."

Wedge stared uncomprehendingly at all three of them from across the room. "Jag? Jaina?" he asked. But before either could answer, Leyla's small voice sounded from between them.

"Kyp didn't tell me," she admitted. "But I… I wanted to know how to remember things better," she looked up at Jaina, eyes pleading, "so I asked Wrynn to teach me. I know I shouldn't have, but I wanted to make sure that they were bad by trying to remember who took me away from you." Tears welled up in her eyes. "But when I started to sense Kyp looking for me, I remembered being little, and waiting for him at my birthday…" she sniffled. "And when I was bored, I'd try to remember more, when he showed up, and then the next day, and then… I accidentally heard you talking to him about… not wanting me to know…"

Wedge was still staring, dumbfounded. He remembered talking to Zekk…

_It tore her up inside, what he did, and she eventually ran away for it._

_I thought she ran away because she was pregnant…_

"Wedge?" he jolted back to the present and saw his nephew peering at him. "Do you think we could have a few minutes…" he gestured back at the girl who was now crying all-out and Jaina who was looking a little shell-shocked and blind-sided.

"Oh, yes. Of course." He backed slowly into his own bedroom and shut the door.

Jag turned back to his wife and daughter- adopted daughter, he thought for the first time, ruefully. "Leyla," he knelt in front of her and took her hand in his. "It's alright if you're upset. We _were_ going to tell you, when you were older and would understand it a little better. But now that you know, I want to explain it to you, okay?" She sniffed and nodded, wiping at the wet streaks on her face. "I love you very much, you're everything to me- but it is true that, biologically, you aren't my daughter." He glanced anxiously up at Jaina. "Do you… understand what I mean by that?"

Leyla hiccoughed. "I… think. Does that mean that mommy and Kyp were married once too?"

Jaina would have grinned if it weren't so horribly difficult and unplanned. "Something like that, sweetie. We weren't married, but we were… dating," she cringed at the inaccurate term for their fling. "Sort of like Uncle Jacen and Danni used to."

"Okay," she seemed to understand that at least.

"Well, Kyp was really angry at what the Yuuzhan Vong were doing to the galaxy… and you know how anger can sometimes cause Jedi to do bad things?"

She nodded again, eyes-wide and tears forgotten. "Did Kyp… go to the _dark side_?" she whispered.

"Not quite," Jaina sighed. "But he did some bad things and…" she fought for words to explain without really explaining. "Some of those things upset me, and I didn't think I could trust Kyp anymore. And I was worried that, if he knew that I was going to have you, that maybe he'd do more bad things that would hurt you too. So I left and, before you were born, your daddy and I fell in love." Leyla gave them a watery smile. "And the very same day you were born, you know what he did? He asked me to marry him."

"And from the instant I saw you," Jag said softly, "I knew you'd always be my little girl."

Leyla looked unsure. "So… Kyp turned good again?"

"He did," Jaina told her. "But we thought it would be too dangerous if we told everyone about you while the war was still going on. So we waited until it was over, and then took you to meet the Jedi and our families, and they were _so_ surprised," she tickled her again and Leyla laughed. "But first, we took you to meet Kyp, and he was surprised too, but he loved you almost immediately, and the two of you bonded really quickly. _That_'s why you were so eager to see him when you turned two a few months later."

Her little face was furrowed in consternation, eyes deep and thoughtful. "Then why didn't Kyp want me to know?"

Jag spoke haltingly, afraid of hurting her feelings. "He… was afraid that it would confuse you while you were still so young. Kyp wanted to make sure that you were happy and safe, and I think he thought that he could ensure that better distantly, if you grew up knowing him as a friend, but we waited until you were older to tell you the rest."

"Oh," she was pensive. "Is that why he was able to find me? Because Wrynn didn't know he was my father?"

"Exactly," Jaina said, relieved that she'd made the jump herself. "If the bad people had known, Kyp never would have been able to get as close to you as he did, they would have been watching him like they were for the rest of us."

"And…" she hesitated. "Can I tell him that I know now? That he doesn't have to pretend anymore?"

Jaina and Jag exchanged quick looks. "If you want to," Jag said evenly. "I think it would make Kyp very happy, he cares about you very much. But if you still aren't sure about the idea, I think he'd understand."

"Oh. Okay." Leyla smiled. "I guess I'll think about it." She yawned.

Jag shot a look over her head. "Why don't you get her ready for bed," he suggested quietly. "I'll… talk to my uncle."

"Better you than me," Jaina teased, standing up and scooping up the tired girl in her arms. She leaned over to give Jag a kiss. "Don't be too long."

When he walked into the bedroom fifteen minutes later, Jag smiled softly. Jaina had her arm around Leyla who was snuggled close against her side. Both were already in a deep sleep. Dimming the light and getting ready for bed, Jag slid in on the other side, forming a protective barrier around their newly recovered daughter.

**End Part XX**


	22. Part 21

**Part XXI**

Major Grawdin Yortevin stared dispassionately out the viewport of his flagship, the _Red Hand_. His superiors seemed to be in a state of confusion at the moment; first, his orders had been to await the arrival of the apprentice Xela, before launching his massive combined force; then, that he was to await the coming of Moff Croyel himself, and the secret leader of the underground organization.

Well, he'd waited this long, he supposed. Twenty years, he had spent isolated from a galaxy he hated, waiting for the right time to strike back at those who had torn the Empire to shreds and replaced it with a shadow of a government, a government that allowed outside invaders to nearly destroy everything. And very soon, they would seize that government, after dismantling its military forces fleet-by-fleet.

His armada was a beautiful thing- combined with the smaller fleets of the rogue Moffs who had staged their own diversion at Bastion, it was more than large enough to easily conquer any one of the Galactic Alliance fleet groups. He just waited for Alurin to give him the coordinates and the word, and he would pound them to slag.

"Sir!" a young sergeant called to him. "Ships approaching on vector twenty six point four."

"Oh?" he turned and scanned, waiting for the telltale shimmer of reverting from hyperspace. Was this Croyel already? "How many?"

"Uh…" before he could get an appropriate reading on instruments that were, admittedly, not state-of-the-art, space began to move…

And an entire fleet materialized before them. Yortevin growled a low challenge; he had wanted a fight, and the fight had come to him. Efficient.

"They're hailing us, sir."

He waved his hand dismissively. "Put it on," he smirked. "Let's hear the last words before their fleet is demolished under our extraordinary strength."

A few seconds passed, and then a loud voice boomed over the comm channel. "Red Hand armada! You will surrender to Admiral Bwua'tu of the Galactic Alliance Fifth Fleet, or you will be destroyed."

Yortevin's lip curled. "They dream that they can outmatch us?" he said aloud to no one. "Captain!" he barked at his ship commander. "Alert the armada to stand by- damaged vessels, retreat on a six point seven vector. We attack on my signal."

He stared at the oncoming ships, growing larger by the second, yet still thousands of kilometers away. "Captain, on my mark…"

"Major, new ships incoming… thirty two point one…"

He whipped around just in time to see a new fleet emerge from hyperspace thirty degrees starboard of the Fifth Fleet. "Armada!" a new voice rang out. "In the name of the Galactic Alliance First Fleet, under Admiral Kre'fey, surrender, or be destroyed."

Yortevin glanced at the sensor analysis and did some quick calculations. They still easily outgunned the two fleets, though with several ships still out of commission, it would be slightly closer to even… but only slightly. "They're fools," he murmured. "Captain, change course, let's take them out one at a time rather than be caught in the middle. If we flank the Fifth, the First will be unable to fire around them."

"Yes, sir." The dreadnaught slowly began to turn in tandem with the rest of the formation. The First Fleet began to move to match their maneuver, but one of the advantages of having more, smaller ships was the heightened maneuverability and speed while doing so. They were nearing range, when the same sergeant spoke up quickly, and a bit haltingly.

"Sir… new ships…"

"Where?" Yortevin barked. He did not need an answer. As he spun on the deck of the bridge, he saw the shimmer of reversion through the aft transparisteel viewport. His voice died in his throat.

A new voice. "Armada, this is your final warning from Admiral Niathal of the Galactic Alliance Third Fleet. You have ten seconds." Yortevin just stood and stared, wondering how Croyel had so severely miscalculated… "Commanders, you have your targets; fire at will."

Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene.

Kyp Durron set the charge and the timer before hurrying away to join the other three Jedi at a safe distance.

The world of Gree Baaker was just as dreary up close as he had envisioned from the shuttle as he landed with Xela and Tahlia a week earlier. It was hot and arid, with a prickly predominance to the plant life that must have made this a miserable place for a prison camp. Which, he supposed, was the idea. Happily, they had only landed a couple of kilometers outside the small complex which was already in sight.

The charge blew- the four of them ducked reflexively, but there was no need. The relay station was enveloped in smoke and flames for several seconds before sparking and crackling, clearly out of commission.

"Okay," he muttered, signaling them to move on, "if I'm right, that should have wiped out their long-range comm abilities which hopefully includes communication between the bunker and the surface."

Saba Sebatyne hissed appreciatively, tail flicking back and forth in anticipation of the fight to come. "Should these onez also take out the power?"

"No," Kyp murmured, "the last thing we want to do is to trap them kilometers below the surface; it wouldn't surprise me if these people have enough supplies stashed to last them ten years down there. Not that it would do them much good without life support…" he shrugged. "I'd rather not deal with that scenario."

"Agreed," Hamner said. "Then, uh… what's the plan? Is there a plan?"

Kyp shrugged. "Depends if they've realized we're coming, I suppose."

"How very… reassuring," Zekk grumbled. "You're sure there are only six of them or so?"

Kyp nodded. "Should be; the entire placed is based on absolute secrecy and impenetrability. Obviously they overestimated their own cunning," he said wryly, "but either way, they shouldn't have had time to call in reinforcements, even if they were willing too. No, the thing we have to worry about now is that they've already fled. If _not_… I am aware of one guard, the Moff, the leader, and maybe… four or five apprentices. And," he hesitated, "there are two of them who I don't think will be much trouble- if one is still alive, that is."

"Still alive?"

"He… assisted our getaway, in a manner of speaking. It shouldn't have looked that way to Wrynn, but it was still a failure, if not a betrayal in his view…"

They neared the edge of the complex and fell silent. Kyp could sense presences alert and aware… he wasn't sure if that was because they had seen them land, or had realized the communications had been knocked out. Possibly both.

The four of them slipped inside the hangar through a hole unceremoniously cut by Sebatyne in the blast door. A quick scan of the bay suggested to Kyp that they had not yet fled, everything still looked in place- save the shuttle he and Leyla had stolen.

"Well?" Zekk murmured.

"I think we've made it in time…"

The door opposite opened and Kyp spun, bringing his blaster to bear in his left hand, lightsaber unlit in his right. The four slunk into the shadows under a blastboat as the guard Kyp had stunned a week ago walked in cautiously, followed by Croyel.

"There's no one here," Croyel muttered, and Kyp glanced over, noticing the convenient placement of Saba's hole in the blast door, masked behind an assault shuttle.

"No," a cold voice rang out from behind him. "They are here; I can feel them." Wrynn strode into the hangar, followed by Xela, Tahlia, and two apprentices Kyp had not met. Vulcor was not among them. He raised his voice, peering around the darkened hangar. "Come and face me honorably, Kyp Durron," he raised his voice, and the hangar was suddenly flooded with lights. "No more tricks and deceits; we will settle this as noble warriors."

Steeling himself, Kyp stepped out from the shadows of the blastboat, flanked by the others. He spared a glance over the four apprentices, noting the narrow coldness of Xela's eyes and the wide hurt of Tahlia's. The others were impassive- more or less.

"It's over for you, Wrynn," Kyp said. "You can surrender to us and face the judgment of the Jedi; this does not need to end in bloodshed."

Wrynn's hard, dark eyes swept over his face, and Kyp felt an involuntary shiver go down his spine at his expression. Predatory, cunning, mocking… and he knew that it would come to a fight- but Wrynn was going to play with them first.

Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene.

Jacen Solo stepped through into the chief-of-state's temporary new office while the upper levels of the Republic Executive Building were being reconstructed. He had been summoned without being given a reason so he was, naturally, curious.

Ferrin Belotab gestured him inside and then backed out, closing the door behind him. Jacen looked up and found himself looking at the smiling faces of Cal Omas and Sien Sovv. "Jacen," Omas came forward and took his hand, "come, sit, sit." Mildly bemused, he did so, taking up one of the comfortable chairs opposite Omas's desk.

"What can I do for you today, Chief Omas? Admiral?"

"Oh, my dear boy- nothing. Rather, we wish to extend our gratitude at your hard work these past weeks and- now that the conspiracy seems to be routed and exposed- explain to you just what you've helped us defeat."

His brows rose and he glanced between them.

"Jedi Solo," Sovv spoke up, "just two hours ago, I received a transmission from Admirals Kre'fey, Niathal, and Bwua'tu of the First, Third, and Fifth Fleets. Acting on information acquired by General Antilles, they ambushed a massive rebel fleet, the combined forces which attacked the Fourth Fleet at the same time as Bastion. This intelligence was actionable solely due to your efforts here which enabled those commanders to rout the spies in their midst."

"I," Jacen was speechless. "Really, I was just trying to find my niece," he admitted wryly.

Omas smiled in a fatherly sort of way. "Be that as it may, you have quite possibly saved the Galactic Alliance as we know it from a decades-old plot originally hatched by Palpatine himself. And your niece _has_ been found and is safely reunited with your sister and her husband and, at this very moment, a strike force is gunning for the head of this organization- Red Hand. With their military destroyed and spies uncovered, they are helpless, and once the strike force succeeds, they will be ended completely.

"Jacen, this level of coordination across all fleets would have been impossible without your tireless efforts here on Coruscant; therefore, Admiral Sovv and myself would like to extend to you the sincere thanks of the Galactic Alliance government and its military. And," he added wryly, "if you ever consider a career in Intelligence, let me know- we could use people like you."

Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene.

Wedge Antilles read the report from Admiral Kre'fey and smiled in grim satisfaction. No prisoners had been taken among the original armada though, perhaps unsurprisingly, a number of vessels belonging to the Moffs' fleets had quickly surrendered when the big turbolasers started firing from three surrounding fleets at once.

In his experience and understanding, survival had always been more important to Imperial Moffs than strong convictions.

And with Jacen Solo's investigatory work wrapping up the loose ends nicely, that just left the small strike team's work on Gree Baaker to take care of the head of the monster, killing it absolutely.

As he sat there, still staring at his screen, he thought back on the stunning revelation about Kyp Durron which Leyla had accidentally uncovered. Jag had come to explain to him briefly, and apologize for not having told him in the first place. But Wedge was the first person to admit that he had a grudge against Durron, so maybe it hadn't been such a bad idea.

He still couldn't quite make the math add up- with Leyla's age, the falling out between Jaina and Durron, the beginning of her relationship with Jag… there was some piece of the explanation that Jag wasn't offering. But maybe, he thought- he didn't want to know.

**End Part XXI**


	23. Part 22

**Part XXII**

"Kyp Durron," Wrynn hissed, coming a few meters closer while his apprentices fanned out behind him; Croyel and the guard remained safely off to the side, both looking apprehensive and finding themselves between nine angry Force-users. "I am impressed; your cunning has far-exceeded that of any I've ever known- save the Emperor, perhaps."

Kyp watched him through narrowed eyes.

"I couldn't understand it," Wrynn said softly. "You were the perfect candidate, you'd already shown yourself willing to use your anger, to betray those who considered themselves your friends and allies… oh yes, we knew _all_ about your past exploits, Master Durron. We never thought twice when we suspected you were our informant- who would have thought that Niwali would recruit such a poor excuse of a Jedi who couldn't even protect herself as Brionia Sumptri?"

Surprise and understanding poured off of Zekk, Hamner, and Sebatyne. "Yes," Wrynn murmured, "I've been piecing together just how you did it, and an impressive feat it was. The attack on Mara Jade… I suppose she gave you information that only her breadth of experience could provide? Information that she had and never dreamed would be relevant even now, long after she forsook her true path? She could have been one of us," he sighed wistfully. "But no matter…

"I've been piecing together the how," Wrynn repeated softly, "but it was the why that had me perplexed, I admit. Why would a twice-fallen Jedi Master risk his life, commit treason against the government and the Jedi who have taken him back both times? What possible motivation could there have been, lying below the surface, to risk everything for the daughter of a failed apprentice, the granddaughter of a friend of two decades ago? But," he smiled dangerously, and Kyp fought to keep his expression neutral, to not give in to anger, not to attack without provocation… "But that's not all that Leyla Solo-Fel is to you… is it?"

He stood and stared, sensing the confusion of everyone else in the hangar, and gritted his teeth. "It doesn't matter anymore, Wrynn- I won. You're only delaying the inevitable the longer you talk. You messed with the wrong family this time."

Wrynn continued as though he hadn't heard him. "The problem," he murmured slowly, "is that our information mostly dried up during the Yuuzhan Vong war. Too many spies killed, gone missing, out of contact due to damaged transceivers- nice work on that, by the way- but since you fled with the girl a week ago, I think I've managed to fill in the missing pieces, pieces which would have alerted me weeks ago that you were not all you seemed. By all means, correct me if I'm wrong on any of them…

"The Yuuzhan Vong are destroying the galaxy, with no regard for civilian life; you, a young, proactive Jedi Master, refuse to sit idly by, waging your own campaign against them- a remarkably _aggressive_ campaign, for a Jedi. You want to strike back in kind, punish them for targeting non-combat personnel, punish the collaborators who sell out their own kind for their lives… and you know the way to do it, but you need someone, someone who can convince the military to do what you can not yourself…

"And so you find yourself luring Jaina Solo to your side, convincing her to persuade generals and admirals, using her family connections, her connections within the military- I understand she's quite the fighter pilot?- and then you find yourself suddenly with a young, impressionable… _attractive_ apprentice, who is just as eager to be active in the war effort as you."

"Wrynn," Kyp growled. "Don't make this harder than it has to be…"

"In an interesting display of a Master's power, you simultaneously train and seduce said young apprentice," Wrynn's cruel smile widened. "And before long, your plans are laid bare and she leaves you- after you've destroyed her innocence, in more ways than one."

Kyp took a deep breath, urging calm and patience to come to him. He still sensed confusion from the others, now laced with discomfort from Zekk especially.

"Your hot-headedness is unable to handle it, and you complete your fall, abandoning Jedi calm and reasonability for action, slaughtering collaborators before they have a chance to defend themselves, attacking whole ships at once… and here is where I'm afraid I'll have to conjecture a little bit, as you and Solo fall on and off the map, but let's see how my deductive reasoning has done…

"You desperately want the girl back, but she's already moved on, hasn't she? So you… what? Confront her? Demand she come back?" He studied the Jedi Master pensively. "No, that's not it… you've already shown yourself to prefer a sneakier attack… you force her to sleep with you one last time by threatening her boyfriend, perhaps? Or maybe it was her decision, spending one last pity-filled night with you, unbeknownst to Fel, after the Jedi captured you…"

He trailed away and stared into Kyp's eyes. After a few seconds, his expression changed to one of surprise. He laughed delightedly. "Wrong again, aren't I?" he exclaimed. "I can see your mind, Kyp Durron, your _guilt_… you raped her, didn't you? Oh, but this is even better than I imagined… she runs away, Fel follows, they resurface some two years later with a child… and five years later, she has no choice but to turn to _you_ who hurt her to get her daughter back, knowing that you'll do it… out of love for her or for the child that was never yours and never could be, I cannot say… and you do it. You attack Jedi, you commit treason, for what? To rescue a daughter who will never know who you are?

"Did you know, Durron? Did she tell you that she bore your daughter, or did she spend the past seven years pretending she was Fel's, only telling you the truth to acquire your services? I can see from _their_ faces," he smiled back at the stunned Hamner, Sebatyne, and Zekk, "that they were unaware- perhaps Fel even thinks the girl is his? Are you sure that she isn't? Was Jaina Solo using you to get her daughter back, under the pretense that you're her real father? I know of course, I ran a test with DNA samples left behind during your brief stay…"

Kyp smiled grimly. "I confess, Wrynn… you've deduced well until now," he sensed the shock from the other three behind him as he confirmed the truth of what Wrynn was saying, but he wouldn't let that distract him. "But you're off the mark- she did tell me, more than five years ago now. And it was _my _choice to hide it, not hers, not Jag's. It was my choice, so that when someone like you tried to hurt Leyla… I could hunt you down and kill you."

Wrynn's smile grew deadly, and he drew his lightsaber. Kyp matched his movements, and could feel the three behind him doing the same. "I have one question, before I kill you," Kyp said idly. "Where's Vulcor?"

The other's brows rose slightly before he scowled. "I should have guessed the whelp helped you escape. No matter- he'll die soon, left alone. Still… you are outnumbered; my apprentices are expert swordsmen… do you think you can win?"

"Do you think they're all willing to die for you?" Kyp asked mildly, turning his attention back to the auburn-haired woman who had been his first point of contact. "Tahlia," his voice was soft. "You have a good heart- come back to Coruscant and train with the Jedi. There's no reason you should die here today."

Her eyes flashed. "You used me," she accused.

"You kidnapped my daughter," he smiled lightly. "Would you have done any differently?"

"I…" she hesitated, and it would have been her death sentence, but for Zekk's fast action. He leapt and hurled his blade as Xela raised her lightsaber high over her head to strike down at the unsuspecting woman. Tahlia shrieked and backed away from the lightsaber careening through the air, her head missing Xela's blade by centimeters.

Zekk's did not miss. With a smell of burning flesh, his blade impaled Xela through the chest, and her expression wavered in shock before she fell to the ground, dead. Retrieving his lightsaber with the Force, Zekk took Tahlia's hand and yanked her with him. "Come on!"

And so it began.

Wrynn locked blades with Kyp, snarling. Hamner and Sebatyne found themselves in combat with the other two apprentices. Zekk moved to secure the Moff and his guard, keeping an eye on Tahlia simultaneously, who was staring at Xela's body, stunned.

Suddenly, a roar overhead filled the air, drowning out the sounds of clashing lightsabers. Zekk cursed, knowing that their chances of stopping Wrynn's people was a lot scarcer if reinforcements arrived… but then he listened more carefully… those were X-wings…

Five minutes later, as Saba sent the apprentice reeling with a slap of her tail and followed through for a quick and clean kill with her lightsaber, only Wrynn was left fighting, and his eyes had the deranged look of a man who knows he's been defeated, but determines to take his attacker down with him. He sprang back from Kyp, blade held high, assessing the situation.

Zekk was still standing guard over Croyel, Alurin, and Tahlia; Hamner was limping from a blow to his left leg; Sebatyne had several singed scales, but no debilitating injuries. Wrynn prepared to face his two would-be attackers, when a new sense caught his attention… beings approaching… being strong in the Force…

Kyp smiled and backed further away. "_Lord_ Wrynn," he addressed him, "you have lost. You need not die; you can still surrender to Master Skywalker."

At that moment, the Master in question stepped through the hole in the blast door, looking around with a mild air of curiosity. Behind him came Mara, Corran Horn, Kyle Katarn, and three other Jedi they had scrambled from Ossus. With an exhausted sigh, Kyp shut down his blade and turned to Luke.

"Master Skywalker, I leave this man's fate in your hands."

"Oh?" Luke looked mildly surprised.

Kyp smiled grimly. "If I kill him, I'll be doing so out of vengeance and anger and… I made a promise to a little girl a long time ago that I wouldn't leave her." He took a deep breath, uncomfortable at the beaming pride on Luke's face. "I'm going down to the bunker to retrieve the man who aided our escape- if he's still alive."

"I'll help," Corran volunteered, and, meeting Wrynn's icy glare one last time, the two men set across the hangar and disappeared into the building. "So," Corran commended idly.

"So?"

The older man shrugged. "You just… have a way about you." Kyp glanced at him and shrugged, releasing the panel of the hidden corridor. "Did you tell her?"

Kyp looked sharply at him. "No." He keyed in the code for the turbolift and they stepped inside, careening down below the planet's surface moments later. "She's with her parents now, she's safe and happy."

"Do you want to tell her?"

"Corran," Kyp sighed, stepping out into the dim corridor, reaching out to sense Vulcor and any other hidden presences, "What I _want_ and what's best- those are two different things. She always should have been Jaina and Jag's." He changed the topic. "How did you know to come? Antilles?"

Corran gestured towards a closed door and Kyp nodded. He could sense the young man in there… unconscious, he thought. "Yes," he answered, "he seems confident that the vast majority of the spy sources have been neutralized. He also sent word that the armada has been completely destroyed."

"Really?" Kyp was legitimately surprised.

"Ambushed by Kre'fey, Bwua'tu, and Niathal."

It was all over then.

He opened the door and winced… there was a distinct smell of burnt hair and flesh. "Vulcor?" he called out softly, not particularly expecting an answer. Corran found a light control, and Kyp sighed at the sight before them.

The man was unconscious and looked to be on the verge of death. Corran hissed. "Looks like most of his body is covered in electrical burns…"

"Probably used him as target practice," Kyp said bitterly, cringing at the thought of Wrynn and Xela lashing out with Force lightning. "Do you think he can make it?"

Corran was a little too long in answering. "If he gets into a bacta tank soon," he finally said, unsurely. "The Second Fleet is going to rendez-vous with us just outside the sector, we could have him in Alliance medical care within two or three hours if we hurry."

"Okay… he needs to go into a healing trance. Vulcor," he called softly. The man groaned but did not open his eyes. "Vulcor, can you hear me?"

"Mas… Dur… on…?"

"That's right, it's Kyp Durron. We've come to get you out of here- do you think you can pull yourself into a healing trance, it'll be a few hours until we can get you proper medical treatment." Vulcor exhaled painfully and concentrated; beside him, Kyp could feel Corran lending his strength and assistance, and he quickly did the same. Soon, pain slightly diminished, the hurt man was unconscious again but allowing the Force to begin the long, slow process of healing his body.

Corran studied his wounds. "You'll have to lift him with the Force, I'm afraid to touch him and do any more damage…"

Carefully, they maneuvered him back down the corridor, into the turbolift and, with a last glance at the bunker, Kyp gladly pressed the button to take them back to the planet's surface.

Where they seemed to have missed the rest of the confrontation. Luke was standing there with a grim but accepting expression on his face, the bodies of Wrynn, Xela, and the other two apprentices had been collected, and some of the others seemed to be collecting some materials to make a quick and impromptu funeral pyre.

Luke saw them coming and moved to intercept. "Kenth went to get your ship," he told Kyp quietly. "Is he going to be okay?"

Kyp grimaced, looking at the man floating eerily behind. "If we can get him back to the Fleet soon; we helped him into a healing trance, but that's only going to get him so far." He glanced around. "Where are Croyel and his man?"

"Ah," Luke pointed up at the blastboat. "Zekk decided that we should appropriate a ship here to assist in prisoner transport. He's securing them, and then one of our fighters can fit in the bay to fly it out of here and assist Zekk. If you think you have things covered with Kenth and Saba, that is…?"

Kyp nodded. "And Tahlia?"

Luke shrugged. "Zekk doesn't seem concerned. Are you?" He shook his head. "I think she's stunned more than anything."

"Yeah," Kyp said wryly, "she almost got her head lopped off by her own people. Zekk saved her life."

"Ah…" Luke said slowly. "That explains… that." He studied the younger man for a minute. "You've done well here, Kyp. You should be proud."

"I'm just happy that it's over; that Jaina and Jag have Leyla back. Besides," he smiled sardonically, "I've still got to face the music for everything I did to get inside their confidence. Speaking of which…" he turned and saw Mara Jade Skywalker stalking towards him.

Her face was set. "I've got a bone to pick with you, Durron…"

He held up a hand. "If I may?" he reached out and placed his fingertips against her temple and closed his eyes. She tensed but did not object, and after a few seconds, she stiffened and flinched, and then jerked away suddenly.

"That was… interesting," she blinked a few times, and then searched her restored memories. "Oh… shavit, Durron," she sighed. "Fine."

He laughed. "What?" Corran asked.

Mara glared at Kyp a moment. "I don't believe I'm about to say this… I told him he could memory-rub me."

Luke chuckled, but then turned grim once more. "What about Brionia Sumptri, Kyp? You did a lot of damage there…"

"She was working with them, wasn't she?" Corran guessed.

Kyp hesitated. "Sort of. Don't be too hard on Brionia; she never really knew what she'd gotten herself in to, she just passed information to Trina Belotab. From what I gathered, she really didn't know that they were going to go after Leyla but… I guess she'd just mentioned that Jaina and Jag had taken her to assess her abilities and that they were… substantial."

"She was still spying on the Jedi," Mara said, voice hard.

"Yes, but now she doesn't even remember being recruited to do so," Kyp pointed out. "It's probably more merciful to just let her build new memories, than force her to live with the old ones."

As Kenth arrived and maneuvered the shuttle through the now-opened blast doors, Luke watched Kyp closely, a light smile playing across his features. "Kyp Durron, you've grown."

He looked away, uncomfortable. "Master Skywalker, can you help Corran get Vulcor aboard the shuttle? I want to talk to Zekk a minute…" he walked away from the group and ascended the landing ramp of the blast boat. Turning towards the cockpit, he heard quiet voices.

Zekk and Tahlia were sitting across from each other, speaking in low tones. He seemed to be telling her about the Jedi and Coruscant and Ossus, urging her to complete her training at the academy or with a Master. Tahlia looked unsure, but something in her eyes softened when she looked at Zekk, and Kyp fought to keep a grin from his face.

"Zekk?" he asked. "Can I have a quick word?"

"Oh," the younger man looked up, surprised, "sure. Should I…?"

"No," he motioned him to stay put. "Tahlia can hear this too. I just wanted to clarify something for you about what Wrynn said…"

Zekk flushed and looked away, uncomfortable. "Yeah. Right." Tahlia watched him in surprised curiosity, remembering the shocking revelation of the girl's true parentage.

"I won't try to explain or justify to you, save to tell you that… events had already been set in motion when Jaina asked for your help in apprehending me eight years ago, it's _why_ she had to do it. And I made my peace with Jaina on Mon Calamari after the knighting ceremony, and with the rest of the family on Zonama Sekot. I met Leyla then, and I love her very dearly, but… she already had a stable family and I didn't want to jeopardize that. Leyla doesn't know, and I'd like to keep it that way until she's old enough to understand."

Something in Zekk's eyes flickered and he nodded. "I understand. Your secret is safe with me."

"And me," Tahlia put in softly.

"Thank you both," Kyp smiled tightly. "I think we're about ready to depart. I'll see you aboard the _Mon Mothma_."

He swept swiftly back down the ramp and hurried over to the other shuttle while the Jedi made preparations to retrieve their fighters. As soon as he was aboard and secure, Hamner and Sebatyne lifted off, eager to get the patient proper medical care as quickly as possible.

For now though- as Kyp stared out of the viewport, watching the dreary planet sink behind, the black smoke of the pyre standing out against the brown landscape, as he steeled himself to make the same request of Kenth and Saba that he had of Zekk- for now, he was glad that it was finally over.

**End Part XXII**


	24. Epilogue

**A/N**: Whew! Finally made it… hope you've enjoyed the ride, and don't forget to let me know how you liked it! :-)

**Epilogue**

He stayed on the shuttle, waiting for a crew from the med bay to come and retrieve Vulcor, and then came slowly behind the hover-gurney, emerging into the massive hangar bay as the last of the Jedi were leaping down from their cockpits… and half-expecting Wedge Antilles to appear to clap him in binders again and haul him away.

If that was Wedge's plan, it wasn't well-executed. In fact, no one seemed to be paying him any mind at all, and that was fine with him. He contemplated slinking out of the hangar, unnoticed, and finding somewhere to try to sleep for about a week straight… but as he sought an exit strategy, he felt a gentle nudge in the Force, and turned to see the whole Skywalker-Solo-Fel clan gathered around the pads where Luke and Mara had just landed.

Leyla was hugging her great-aunt and uncle, but her head swiveled around and she caught Kyp's gaze and grinned, scrambling out of Luke's arms and heading quickly over. "Kyp!" she called, smiling broadly, and Jaina stood and watched her run over with a wry expression on her face. Kyp thought he sensed some sort of amused warning from Jaina, but couldn't tell what it was before Leyla was leaping up into his arms.

He caught her and smiled. "Hey, princess."

"I'm not a princess."

"Well, you're pretty like a princess," he teased.

She grinned. "I'm glad you came back."

"I told you I would. And have you been good?"

"Yes!" she protested. "Just like I told you _I_ would!" Her expression turned suddenly serious and she eyed him somberly. "But I want to tell you something, Kyp."

His lips quirked, bemused. "Go ahead, sweetie."

"You don't have to pretend anymore."

He stared. "Pretend what, Leyla?"

She looked hesitant. "Mommy and daddy said that it was okay if I told you I knew everything…"

Kyp froze for a moment before lowering her to the ground and kneeling in front of her, so there would be no danger of dropping her. "Leyla," he said shakily, "what are you talking about?"

"You don't have to pretend not to be my father anymore." She shot a glance back at Jaina and Jag. "But they said I can still call you Kyp if I want," she finished quietly.

For a half minute, he just stared at her wide eyes and earnest expression, completely at a loss. He shot a glance over her head at Jaina and Jag, who seemed mildly amused by his dumbfounded expression. Tearing his gaze back to Leyla, he saw that she was starting to look worried, and he smiled and took her little hands in his. "Of course you can," he said. "You can call me whatever you want." She brightened again. "But sweetheart… how did you find out?" A familiar, almost guilty expression crossed her face. He grinned and shook his head. "Leyla, did you find out because of the memory trick that Wrynn taught you?"

She nodded. "It was an accident. And I was really confused at first and didn't understand until I did it a few more times… and then when mommy and daddy got here, I asked them about it. Mommy promised that she wasn't mad, but Uncle Wedge seemed to be a little bit… are _you_ mad?"

Kyp fought back a laugh, envisioning Wedge's face during _that_ conversation. "Don't be silly, sweetheart, of course not. But let me ask you this- are you?"

"What?"

"Are you mad or upset that I never told you?"

"Oh," her little brow furrowed in concentration. "No. Maybe a little when I first found out," she amended, and Kyp made a mental note to ask Jaina for the full details of that conversation later. "But daddy said you just wanted me to be happy and that you wanted to tell me one day anyway, right?"

"That's right."

"And," she continued, "if everyone knew, then you wouldn't have found me!"

Chuckling softly, Kyp pulled her back up into his arms and headed over to the group where the rest of her family was gathered. Wedge was there now, and he eyed Kyp with a highly calculating expression that Kyp chose to ignore. Instead, he approached Jaina and Jag who were both beaming at him, a highly unusal sight for the stoic Chiss-raised colonel.

Kyp set Leyla down, and Jaina immediately drew him into a tight hug. "Thank you," she mumbled against him. "We owe you so much."

"Nah," he said. "You know I'd do it again in a heartbeat."

She pulled away and smiled, leaning up to give him a quick peck on the cheek. "Yes, I do- which is why you'll make a terrific father."

"Yeah," he snorted, "thanks for the warning on that one."

"Hey," Jag said, shaking Kyp's hand warmly and clapping him on the back, "you got as much warning as we did. And poor Wedge… looked like he was about to faint on the spot."

Kyp glanced over again at the general who was shaking his head. "Well, Durron," he said. "nothing is ever simple with you, is it?"

"I reckon not."

"Just one question," Wedge tilted his head curiously. "Did you summon the Jedi squadrons and the Second to the aid of the Fourth?"

Kyp shot a guilty glance at Mara who rolled her eyes. "Yes."

Wedge sighed. "Oh, alright. I'll get the charges dropped, I think the… unusual explanation and mitigating circumstances will be more than enough for the judicial board."

"I appreciate that," Kyp said sincerely.

"Does that mean Kyp doesn't have to go back to jail?" Leyla asked, eyes bright and excited.

Wedge grinned sardonically down at her. "No, honey, he doesn't."

"And…" she hesitated. "Are all of the bad people gone?"

Kyp nodded wearily. "You bet. I promise. And Vulcor's going to make it; Wrynn hurt him, but they're already taking care of him, he should be ship-shape in a week or so."

"What about the others?" there was a faint tremor in her voice.

Luke leaned down and addressed her softly. "Well, Leyla, they chose not to surrender and attacked instead. I'm afraid that we had no choice but to kill the ones who did, though one of the apprentices- Tahlia- chose to come with us instead."

Leyla seemed to take a minute to process that, and then rounded on Kyp. "I _told_ you that Uncle Luke was going to have to kill Wrynn to stop him from being an emperor!"

Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene.

Jaina and Jag entered the med bay, Leyla walking between them and holding their hands. It had been five days, and soon, they would reach orbit around Coruscant and finally go home. But first, they had a visit to make.

They found the right room and knocked once before entering. The single occupant, a young, sandy-haired man, looked up and straightened in surprise, a soft smile touching his face when he saw Leyla, though it faded slightly when he realized who the two with her were. Jaina studied his appearance, as well as his aura in the Force, and found a man with many regrets, but little anger or despair. Physically, he looked good, and only a faint pinkish tinge to his skin indicated the amount of time he still spent in bacta, repairing external and internal damage from Wrynn's assault.

"Vulcor!" Leyla exclaimed delightedly, standing beside his bed, straining to peer up over the railing. "You're alive!"

Jag suppressed a snort beside her and Jaina just shook her head. For his part, Vulcor didn't seem to mind the abrupt greeting. "I am," he acknowledged somberly. "Thanks to Master Durron. I never thought I'd see you again, Leyla," he smiled, "but I'm very glad that you've made it back to your parents." He shifted his gaze up at the two of them and bit his lip, anxious. "I can't even begin to express my own shame over what we… what my people… did to your family…"

"Please," Jaina held up a hand. "From what Kyp has told us, you have easily made up for any share of the blame that might have been yours. And Leyla tells us that you were very kind and caring to her, in a place where she had no one… and we thank you for that."

Vulcor looked hesitant to ask. "What is to become of me now? I truly appreciate the care I've received here but… I have nowhere to go, no family…"

Jaina nodded and took up a seat in a chair next to the bed. "That's actually what we came to talk to you about. Master Skywalker- you know of him?" Vulcor nodded. "He has extended an invitation for you and Tahlia to live and study at his academy on the planet Ossus, with dozens of other Jedi trainees. He recognizes, of course, that your training is already advanced… but he feels it will be a good healing process for you both, after what you've been through."

Vulcor nodded slowly. "That sounds… nice. More than I ever wished for, to be honest."

Leyla grinned. "And if you're still there in a couple of years, maybe we can be students together when _I_ come to really learn how to be a Jedi."

"I'd like that, Leyla."

Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene.

_Two Months Later_

Jaina Solo-Fel returned from a meeting at the Jedi temple in the early evening, easing her speeder into their private berth in the hangar of their new apartment building- which was, conveniently, only a short distance away from Kyp's, giving Jaina a sense of extra security when it came to Leyla.

It had been two months, and life was returning to normal. On some levels, the galaxy was still reeling from the incredible complexity of the scheme, the longevity of it… yet another of Palpatine's resurfaced ploys to destroy all that they held dear. But once again, they had prevailed, and life had returned to its usual state of relative simplicity.

Relative- because she was a Solo, a Skywalker, a Fel… a Jedi Knight, wife of a diplomatic envoy, daughter to a politician, niece to the head of the Jedi order… and all of those things invariably affected what others might consider normality; for Jaina and Jag, for Jacen, Han, and Leia… that was just the way that things had always worked, and always would.

As she exited the turbolift on her floor, Jaina reflected fondly on the ever-stronger bond between her and Jag, between her and Leyla… and the budding relationship between Leyla and Kyp, as he slowly felt out what it was to be a father figure to her, and she gradually came to view him as such. Part of Jaina wondered if he regretted not allowing himself this five years ago… but she knew what he would say- that things might have worked out very different- and badly- in the recent crisis if he had not done what he did.

She couldn't argue with that viewpoint.

As she walked into the apartment- still mildly unfamiliar, but growing on her- she frowned. Something felt… different. A sense of anticipation drifted from the other room, and Jaina smiled, realizing that Jag was waiting for her. She walked into the bedroom and quirked a brow.

"My… don't you look dashing tonight?" He truly did, in a grey suit that evoked images of his military uniform, his facial hair shaved and trimmed, leaving a goatee that made him look distinguished and older than his twenty-seven years. "What's the occasion?"

He swept over to her and pulled her flush against him. "The occasion, fair lady," he leaned down and ghosted his lips across her ear, "is that I am taking you out to dinner."

"Oh?" She glanced around, noticing the lack of a familiar presence in the apartment. "Where's Leyla?"

"Spending the night with Kyp."

"Oh…" Jaina's brow furrowed slightly.

Jag frowned and tilted her face up. "I didn't think you'd mind," he said slowly. "I wanted to surprise you."

"No," she assured him, "it's just… I still hate being away from her for more than an hour or two at a time," she admitted ruefully.

He nodded and pulled her into a gentle hug. "I know; but you know that, if anyone will be protective to the point of absurdity, it'll be Kyp."

"Yeah," she gave him a cocky grin, "when she's older, the two of you will be lining up to interrogate her boyfriends…"

He scowled. "What makes you think she'll be allowed out of the apartment anymore once she turns thirteen or so? We could keep her locked up until she's about, oh… thirty?"

She smacked his arm playfully. "Fine, fine… dinner then. What should I wear?"

"Ah," he produced a hangar, "I bought something for you."

For a full minute, she stared. "Jag," she breathed. "It's beautiful." The dress was a long, flowing, shimmering silver, modestly cut as she liked, but with a low back and bare shoulders- provocative enough, in its own way. "How did you ever find it?"

"A Corellian never reveals his secrets."

"My mother helped you pick it out then." He scowled and she laughed lightly, reaching up and giving him a lingering kiss. "Give me ten minutes."

Three hours later, they walked arm-in-arm back into the apartment after a long, romantic meal at an exotic restaurant with more food selections from more worlds than Jaina could keep track of- indeed, some of them, she'd never even heard of. Afterwards, they'd walked along a promenade, watching the glimmering lights of the city traffic above and below them until it started to get late and chilly, and he had walked her back to their speeder with an arm draped warmly around her bare shoulders.

Now, back home, she leaned against him, both sipping idly at champagne, and she tried to remember the last time they had spent an evening to themselves. They had been few and far between, that was for sure. "This is nice," she murmured, snuggling back against him, taking a sip. "We should plan spontaneous romantic nights out more often."

He laughed. "Only as often as I can steal your mother away to help me shop for gifts for you. And to tell the truth, this _was_ planned… for a couple of weeks, anyway."

"Oh?"

"Yes. Jaina, there's something I want to talk to you about…"

She tilted her head up to look at his face. "Wining and dining me like a business client, Colonel Fel?" she smirked. "How delightedly sneaky." Her expression grew serious. "What's on your mind?"

"Well…" he took a deep breath. "I've been thinking a lot since… well, since we got home two months ago, really. About us, and Leyla, and life... It's true that we never planned on being parents so early in life- obviously. But against all odds, things worked out so well for us, with Leyla, with the war ending when it did, and with Kyp… And now that Leyla's almost eight, and we've been through what we have and come out stronger for it… and she'll be going to the academy in just a couple of years…"

"Jag?" Jaina turned and looked at him with a mixture of confusion and concern. "You're rambling, honey. What are you trying to say, exactly? You want to leave Coruscant? Go back in the military? Lock Leyla in her room until she's thirty?"

He met her gaze with soft eyes and a smile so gentle and warm she thought her heart would burst. "What I'm _trying_- and failing, obviously- to say, is that… I think we should have another one."

Three beats passed. "Another what?"

"Another… what do you think? I think it's time that you and I gave Leyla a little brother or sister- this time, on our terms." She stared at him, and he continued doggedly ahead. "It's just, when we got married… at first, we didn't talk about it, because we already had Leyla, and we were so young that we knew she would be enough to keep our hands full… and now, almost six years later, we _still_ haven't talked about it and…" he hesitated, "I like the idea of me and you… creating a new life…"

Jaina continued to stare at him, and he cringed slightly, wondering if he'd been wrong to do this now, while the wounds from Leyla's kidnapping were still so fresh. But then, something flickered in her eyes, and a slow smile spread across her face. She clambored up onto his lap, setting down her champagne flute and sloshing it almost over the sides, and wrapped her arms around his neck. "I think," she whispered, "that it's a marvelous idea."

"You do? I mean, really?"

Her lips met his in a slow, thorough, deep kiss. "Yes," she breathed against him. "I do. Should we get started right away?"

"Hm?"

Grinning coyly, she took the glass out of his hand and set it down before taking his hand and coaxing him to his feet. She turned and walked slowly towards the bedroom, glancing over her shoulder at him as she reached up to unfasten the straps of her dress that tied behind her neck. Eyes darkening in anticipation, he followed her.

And- just this once- they were both thrilled to have Leyla out of the apartment for the night.

Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene.

Kyp woke up suddenly, not entirely sure why. There was no noise, no disturbance in the Force… and then he felt it.

Just a little disturbance in the mind of a certain little girl in the next room.

Blinking sleep out of his eyes, he swung his legs out of bed and stood, calling on the lights dimly. The door to his bedroom was already opened a crack, and he pulled it open just a bit further to peer out at Leyla, not wanting to necessarily wake her if she was just having a nightmare.

She was awake though, and sitting upright on the makeshift sofa-bed, he knees drawn in close to her chest. Her eyes swiveled around when she sensed him watching. "Oh… hi, Kyp." Her voice was soft and somber.

"Hey," he stepped fully into the room. "Can't sleep?"

She shrugged and heaved a sigh. "I _was_… but then I woke up and…" she trailed away and looked down.

He thought he understood. "Sort of scary, waking up in a new place for the first time, huh?" Her eyes rose again to meet his and he thought she looked a bit relieved that he understood. He crossed over to the sofa and sat on the opposite end where he could turn and look at her. "Do you want to go home?"

Hesitating only a moment, she shook her head adamantly. "No," she murmured. "Just… can you stay with me for a little bit?"

Smiling softly, he fought back a yawn and nodded. "Of course, sweetheart."

Immediately satisfied, she scrambled across the couch and curled up next to him. He put an arm around her tiny shoulders and used the Force to tug her abandoned blanket over, draping it across her. She giggled and rested her head against his side. "Kyp," she said quietly, "I'm glad I'm here. And next time, I won't be scared, I promise."

"I know you won't," he grinned ruefully at the brave and serious girl. "But if you were, that'd be okay too."

She seemed to mull that over for a moment before abruptly changing the topic. "How's Vulcor? And Tahlia?"

"Luke tells me that they're doing really well at his academy," he assured her. "And guess what? Zekk is out there visiting Ossus now, but when he comes back, they might come for a visit to Coruscant."

"Good," Leyla said firmly. "Vulcor told me that he's never been here; I don't think he believed me when I said how big everything is." She paused. "Are Zekk and Tahlia _dating_?"

He grinned. "Yes, sweetie, I do believe they are."

"Like you and mommy used to?"

He coughed and started, remembering the way Jaina and Jag had tried to explain to Leyla about Kyp being her father. "Uh… sort of."

Her brow furrowed. "Does that mean they're going to have a baby?"

"Probably not," he muttered. "And if they do, it probably won't be for a _very_ long time."

"Oh." He could sense her deep in thought for a while before she spoke up again. "Kyp? Are you sad that mommy married daddy instead of you?"

_Out of the mouths of babes…_

He sighed and decided that an honest answer would be best. "I used to be, a long time ago. But not anymore. Your mommy and daddy love one another very much, in a way that your mommy and I never did; they were always meant for each other."

Her confusion was palpable. "Then why did you and her have a baby?"

Despite himself, he couldn't help but grin. "You'll understand when you're older." And it was true… one day, a long way away, she would understand, would know that it had never been Jaina's choice, that the dark side had twisted Kyp, made him so delusional that he thought that, by tricking her and hurting her, she would come back to him. But also that, against all odds… Leyla was loved and adored by her real parents _and_ her adoptive father, that she had been the center of Jaina and Jag's universe since the minute she was born.

Leyla's breathing deepened, and a gentle probe of the Force told Kyp that she was slowly drifting to sleep once more. He contemplated moving her and then gave a mental shrug, settling himself deeper into the sofa and leaning his head back, letting his own eyes drift closed once more. "Goodnight, Leyla," he whispered, not entirely sure if she was awake at all to hear him.

She was. "Goodnight, daddy…"

And then she was asleep. Eyes closed, head resting against the back of the sofa, Kyp let a slow smile spread across his face as a gentle warmth tickled at his heart.

**Fin**

**A/N**: Again, I'd really like to know how you've enjoyed the story, so reviews are appreciated. :-)

Cheers!

*~Lexi~*


	25. Story cover info

**Story Cover designed by Iverna on the Jedi Council Forums; images property of Lucasfilms, LTD and pulled from Wookieepedia .**

**Black and white background image property of Iverna.  
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